I’ve never been to Shiner, Texas. Yes I know, you’re probably thinking that every Texan has been to every city in Texas and you’d be dead fucking wrong. You know why? Because it’s a fuck off HUGE state. For perspective, the area I’m from is called the Rio Grande Valley (or the Valley for short). Basically most shit goes down in the McAllen, Edinburg, Mission Metropolitan area. The nearest major city is San Antonio which is a full 4 and a half hour drive. Austin is 6 hours away while Dallas is 9 hours. Not enough? How about this: when I drive back home from Indiana it takes me a total of 23 hours. Half of that trip is spent just driving through Texas. So next time you complain about having to drive 4 hours to get somewhere, stop whatever you’re doing and punch yourself in the dick. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

So anyway, Texas in my opinion has been a bit slow on the craft brew scene but there’s always been some Shiner. And I’ve always liked it. So I was down there this past spring break to surprise my sister with a visit (and see the surprise birth of my first nephew) and on a couple of nights I stayed up in their apartment watching tv and drinking. Heavily. I’d seen this particular brew, FM 966, at the corner store near my sister and brother-in-law’s apartment. Now FM 966 is apparently the Farm to Market road that leads you through Shiner, Texas (which itself is located east of San Antonio). You know why I’ve never been there? Because those little Texas towns scare the shit out of me. I keep my Mexican ass in major cities.

Anyway, I tried looking for a pilsner glass to pour this beer in for the photo but all my sister had were these fancy ass chalices. Picture an overweight Mexican dude drinking beer out of a fucking chalice while watching the Dallas Mavericks struggling to reach .500. And really, drinking FM 966 is kinda like watching the Mavs this season. You know it could be really god damn good, but you’re left thinking “what the fuck is this shit?” You ever have that one aunt whose Koolaid you fucking hated drinking? That taste of someone who is afraid of putting sugar into the drinks so they actually follow the directions on the packet? That’s what this tasted like. Citrus-y regret. I wanted to like it, but I couldn’t. And here’s a pro-tip for breweries: NOT ALL OF US WANT FUCKING FRUIT IN OUR BEERS! I drink beer because I want to taste beer, not fucking oranges or *shudder* grapefruit. YOU HEAR THAT SHIT, SHINER? DON’T RUIN THE CITRUS LEGACY OF THE VALLEY BY BASTARDIZING YOUR BEER! JUST GIVE US MORE OF THE GOOD SHIT.

Anyway, I drank the whole sixxer in that night, but that was because I wanted to get stalloned. I pretty much washed this one down with lots of Tecate afterward, but that’s another story.