That’s right, I grew up in Sacramento.

Somewhere between playing slapnut and watching the Kings blow playoff games, we had to find ways to kill time during our adolescence. So a few summers ago, my compadres from the 916 and I became regulars at the ol’ Anheuser-Busch factory in Fairfield, a mere hop skip from Sac-town.

Too young to drink, too early to rub one out — what better way to waste a day other than watching fresh Budweiser being made? From the instant you step out of the car and smell Mr. Busch’s world-renowned hops, “the spice of beer,” and my frequent visits to the gift shop — Budweiser and I hit it off pretty quick. When we saw the ginormous temple where they keep towering vats full of beer, two things happened: 1) My goal in life became to swim in one of them and 2) I had the most religious experience of my otherwise worthless existence.

With that said, not too long ago in I.V. some brave souls actually purchased a keg. After pouring the golden brew into my cup, I took a sip.

“Ugh, this tastes like piss,” I said.

Knowing what was coming next, it was only a matter of seconds before some keg-dweller inevitably blurted it out.

“You know what piss tastes like?” in classic “Happy Gilmore”-esque fashion.

Much to his chagrin, he didn’t know I had a valid ready-made response.

“Yeah I’ve tasted piss before – it’s called Miller Light,” I said in response to my gag reflex after tasting the shittiest liquid ever to come out of Wisconsin.

Miller’s recent mudslinging campaign at Bud Light has pushed me over the edge. Usually I’m just a big advocate of beer drinking in general, but Miller went too far – starting with their ridiculous football penalty-themed commercials in which they penalize Bud Light toters for “enjoying a beer with less taste.” I would like to throw from TV’s outset the proverbial red flag for an instant replay. Miller’s claim of having “more taste” may be true, but it is still trying to manipulate ignorant lightweights about who the true king of beers is.

I’ll give Miller that much: It has more taste. But does anyone mention that taste likens itself to rotten pickle juice? Sure, anchovies have more “taste” than pepperonis do per se, but what do most people prefer on their pizzas?

According to my role models from the Bud factory, Budweiser is the best-selling beer in the world and Bud Light is the best-selling beer in the United States. So when Miller claims that two out of three people think Miller Light has more taste than Bud Light, one of those two “more flavor” people likely went home and got tanked off of Bud Light.

And it’s more than just the beer.

My spite for Miller goes beyond the fact that I would rather have someone take a dump in my mouth than submit myself to a night of charging MGDs.

First of all, how dare Miller try and take hacks at the Clydesdales, Budweiser’s infamous horse mascots. In one of their recent commercials wherein the Miller dude – who apparently is running for the “King of Beers” versus a Clydesdale – jokes that the Budweiser horse isn’t worthy of office because “It can’t talk – it’s a horse.”


But I’m sure if it didn’t have a tranquilizer gun to its dome, the Clydesdale would eat that fucking dude’s head off with one swift bite and wash it down with some cold Anheuser-Busch product. Besides, who doesn’t love a horse that can kick field goals in the snow? That’s more than that kicker on the Chargers can say.

There’s a reason why Budweiser is the king and Miller has to come up with beers like “Milwaukee’s Best” to try futilely to be the best at anything.

My favorite place to kill an afternoon in the San Joaquin Valley may be to watch the good people of Anheuser-Busch make the beer that has killed oh-so-many of my brain cells. But I know deep down in my heart that God himself brewed those naturally carbonated, beachwood-aged Bud Lights that I enjoy so very, very much.

Thanks, dude.

Daily Nexus assistant opinion editor Sean Swaby still likes Brad Miller.