I recently spent nine weeks in Haiti. Whilst I was there, I drank a lot of Prestige beer. Prestige, if you’re among the majority of the world population that haven’t heard of it, is an excellent American-style lager brewed by Brasserie Nationale d’Haiti S.A., which just so happened to win the gold medal for American-style lager at the 2000 World Beer Cup. It also happened to cost 35 gourdes (88¢) a bottle at our local bar. For some reason, this left me with a disturbing yen for Smirnoff Ice. The nearest convenience store to my house didn’t have Smirnoff Ice. But they did have Four Loko Fruit Punch Flavor.

Let me preface this post by saying that I’ve just consumed an entire can of Four Loko Fruit Punch Flavor in the space of about forty-five minutes. Ironically, while I drank it, I watched the first episode of season two of  “Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution.” So if this review devolves into gibberish, that would be why.

I never drank Four Loko in the caffeine days. It’s not because I’m “better than that” or too hoity-toity to drink a malt beverage — 2001 Me’s association with Olde English 800 and Rainier Ale can certainly attest to that. It’s simply because even booze-loving me could never resign myself to drinking a beverage called Four Loko that was so readily embraced by the frat boy culture. I did, however, drink Sparks both orange and black, B^E (aka B-to-the-E, aka Bud Extra) and more-than-I’m-comfortable-admitting Red Bull and vodkas. Suffice it to say, I’m no stranger to sugary, caffeinated cheap booze.

When cracking open a Four Loko Fruit Punch Flavor, I’m reminded of the smell of a women’s restroom at a club. It’s a definite fruity smell, like a mix of cheap perfume and deodorizer mixed with several dozen cheap beers spilled on the floor.

When initially tasting a Four Loko Fruit Punch Flavor, I’m reminded of a Hi-C fruit punch that’s been poured over a bum’s ass crack. As I continued running my tongue along Roscoe’s anal lips, my brain became further addled by the 12% alcohol and the flavor became distinctly less hoboesque and far more I-don’t-care-what-it-tastes-like-just-keep-making-the-pain-stop-esque.

And that 12% number really is key. It’s 12% alcohol. A 23.5 ounce can contains as much alcohol as more-than four of your average pale American lager beers. And at $2.69 per can, that’s an incredible value! At my stores, PBR is 16¢/oz, and Four Loko is 11¢/oz. And the Four Loko contains more than twice the alcohol per ounce as PBR. That means that on a dollars-to-drunk basis, it costs just over a third as much to get drunk on Four Loko as it does on PBR. One third! 37.5%! That’s insane. That is… Loko.

Now… is it worth it? I really have no idea. After one can, I’m definitely solidly buzzed. But it’s not exactly a pleasant buzz. And I have no doubt that if I were to drink another can, the hangover would be mule kickingly bad.

So I guess what I’m saying is that if you’re hard up for cash, buy Four Loko. But if you’re not, it’s probably in your best interest to buy something high class like Pabst Blue Ribbon. And for the record, I fucking love Pabst Blue Ribbon.