FUCK THE POLICE
911 EVERY DAY
Ah, Coor's Lite. Your sweet melody swoops through my brain, wiping away the aching loneliness, darkness, and desperation that I miserably refer to as a life. Also, useless brain cells. I raise my right arm to you, in a Hitler salute, and sing praise to your impeccable glory, ineffable taste, and absolute purity. Actually, it tastes like shit, but you can't tell when you're drunk. Which is what I am after. You, Coor's Lite, are the nectar of the God's, and long live you, godspeed O chosen one.