Gross.

From first sight, I knew it would not be love. Beers in a can always disappoint, no matter how many times I try to turn them into shining knights of armor. They taste of cold metal, give me a slow-dripping buzz, and then leave me the next morning with a headache and low self-esteem. This one was even more deceiving…”Just gimme a chance, baby,” it whispered, hot and seductive in my ear. “I’m honey-coated. You like honey, don’t you, baby…”

Never again, Gluek. I’m over you. This was one one-night-stand I won’t want to remember on those long lonely sober nights.