I would like to preface this article or review by mentioning that contrary to popular beliefs, not all Blacks in this country drink malt liquor. I, personally, HATE malt liquor. It's cheap and it's effective if you are looking for an easy way to get drunk, but there are other pints for pennies on the dollar that give a fresher; crisper, sweeter taste than that offered by St. Ides and the like. I'm also not a fan of the new flavored malt liquor beverages, as they taste worse than most cough medicines and often leave me with headache before I've even finished drinking. My friends and colleagues swore by their taste and the ease by which I would get drunk, but it was not as pleasurable an experience as they had led me to believe. In previous attempts to consume these vile beverages I walked away disappointed and in dismay. Recently; however, I digested a malt liquor beverage teeming with such taste and brilliance, I walked away skipping. Hardly, but the emotion inside was that of a giddy schoolboy after his first kiss underneath the bleachers.
The Colt .45 label has been around for years, and for years, various types of people have drowned their pallets with the cost efficient buzz their products offer. For years, as a youth, I had indulged in many of their refreshments, mainly because those with valid identification found it easier to buy one or two 40 ounce bottles of malt liquor, every hour, then it would be to buy 12 packs of canned beer. I quickly realized while I was enjoying the feeling, my stomach could not, stomach, the taste. So I avoided malt liquor like people with hyperosmia avoid landfills. I was then introduced to the one malt liquor that may have grabbed my attention faster than Sarah Palin in a bikini. The grape flavored Blast from Colt .45. It was so delicious. It mixes the carbonation you love in grape soda with the bit of kick you like in your Smirnoff or wine coolers. No revolting aftertaste, and no headache. Instead I almost felt rejuvenated. It gave me the "lift" I was looking for, with pleasing taste, in a poor man's cocktail. As close to perfection as one could get in a flavored malted concoction. If I had the opportunity, I would give the Colt .45 brewery the Nobel Prize in Chemistry.