Barman, make it Brutal

There is a lot to be said about men and what they drink. However one of the more profound things to be said is about to come out of my mind, onto my keyboard and onto your screen. Consider it history in the making.

I was out the other night and someone I know was smashing a Windhoek Light and I was fine with this. But then I remembered how many conversations have been had, and how many people have been ridiculed over what they drink. Girls can drink anything but guys must smash beer. Why exactly I don't know. As we know the excesses of beer don't exactly lead you to look like a Mens Health cover model and are not conducive to living to a decent age. And a beer belly won't exactly catch the attention of a supermodel unless you are

a) Hung like Ron Jeremy or Tommy Lee
b) Motherfucking rich

Anyway, I then thought back to the Fokofpolisiekar concert where I saw the lead singer, Francois van Coke, drinking a Brutal Fruit. Why the fuck not? If that's what he wants, then let him be. Everyone knows that a Brutal Fruit tastes fucking good, but not many guys will admit to ever having had one. They will always order a Castle, even though it is fizzy and bitter and disgusting. Windhoek or Amstel or Peroni are good. But if you don't like beer, then have a glass of wine, a cocktail, a cooldrink. Have we really become so wrapped up in our image that we let other peoples views dictate what we drink? I think we have.

If guys are only supposed to drink beer then surely we should also only eat steak? If a guy is seen drinking a Brutal Fruit then the usual comment is “That's gay” Then is it not “gay” if a guy is seen eating sushi, or God forbid, fruit of any kind? This article is very deep so bear with me. I am struggling.

I'm pretty confident with my sexuality, and if I wanted to drink a Brutal Fruit, and heard people saying that I was gay, I would not exactly turn around and believe them and suddenly head to Bronx in town. Does a 340ml bottle of liquid really determine our sexual preference?

I highly fucking doubt it.

So next time you are considering what to drink, don't think of what's cool. Think of what you want, what tastes good, and at least enjoy your drink and laugh at those fuckers pulling faces as they let another bitter beer, or a bad whiskey, hack down their throat like a razorblade.

Then walk up to the nearest belter, chat to her for 5 minutes and pull her with your charm, take her back to your apartment and give her a right seeing to. Then take her for breakfast the next morning in your Porsche Turbo and know that you are absolutely killing it. Then smile, laugh at those other tools and know that you have won. You have won the entire game. You probably don't even have to play anymore.

Barmen, get me another.

End note: I have a thing to wrote on the Bishops/ Rondebosch cricket last night, but it may take a while to write because I can't stop laughing at the fact that that we beat Bishops. Unlucky boys, try again next year.