I could never live in the States. There's just something about how god damn free they are that's a little too intoxicating. In short: I lose my mind down there. Years of living in a polite, socialist-lite country have left me with no coping mechanism when presented with the sheer ridiculousness of American excess. Which brings us to the subject of our breview, that high-fructose bastard child of energy drink and malt liquor: Four Loko.

Stef had had the whole range of flavours of these things chilling in her fridge for a long while, a poisoned bounty from a trip long ago. When offered one I was eager to see just how "loko" they really were. I opted for the fruit punch variety. There was no turning back. The taste will haunt me to my grave.

She came so close to spitting it out. Definitely the smarter thing to do. You're first hit with a mean, rotten Kool-Aid flavour, a twisted parody of it that immediately soiled all my fond childhood memories of the drink. Just as you realize you've made a huge mistake, the alcohol aftertaste punches you in the gut. There's no need for hyperbole here: this stuff is 12% alcohol and tastes like it. This one-two punch of awful opposites hits you so quickly that your first sips seem tolerable. Then the sugar kicks in.

I have never felt so completely out of my mind as I did drinking this stuff. Granted, Stef, Laura and I split two more of these abominations (and may have even snuck in a fucking Joose somehow?) but the crazy feeling started when I was a third into my can and didn't leave until 7 am the next day.

I have a bad drunk memory and can usually write off any tomfoolery committed under the influence with my revisionist brain but not this time. I have never woken up so completely sure that I made a huge, giant, throbbing asshole of myself the night before. There's no shame like post-Four Loko shame, people.

Scanning the previous night's voice mails, text messages and BBMs, I was able to deduce that I acted like a full blown douche idiot moron. Girlfriends past and present were berated. Close friends were insulted. Stairs were fallen down. Beers were unsuccessfully hidden down pants. Weed may have been swiped. Fences were hopped. Dudes were unsubtly hit on. This was some dark shit. Manchurian Candidate shit. I'm surprised I didn't wake up in a tub of ice with several organs missing and presumed harvested.

This "brew" can ruin friendships, make your girlfriend dump you and generally have you acting like a full-on idiot. Consumption will result in all of your peers losing respect for you.

I'm so sorry, everyone.

-----------------

editor's note: I got to witness the beginning of this shitshow go down while I was totally sober. After about 20 minutes I was in tears and ran away to a straight edge person's house for consolation. Maybe I'm a pussy, no I'm definitely a pussy, but Four Loco is some mean shit. Unless you want to look like a more sinister version of Bart and Millhouse in that Simpson's episode where they drink the all syrup super Squishy, stay the hell away from this garbage juice.

I hope everyone had an awesome summer. We are planning some sweet brew-related activities for the fall so don't forget about us!