I love Isla Vista. I love living in the town with the highest per capita density of outrageously beautiful women in the world. I love our laid back, ganja-ripping, bro high-fiving, beach body tanning culture. I’m all about uncontrollably obscene clothes-ripping debauchery where the ultimate goal is the execution of sexual maneuvers that would make the authors of the Kama Sutra blush. But come on I.V., it’s time to start drinking better beer.

I understand what the opposition might say. They might whine about money (read: cheap, miserly tightwads), they might complain about a lack of popular demand (read: tasteless bastards who probably grew up in some mid-western hell hole) and they might fixate on some other silly bullshit concocted through a deep-rooted masochistic desire to not have as much fun as physically possible. Whatever the reason, I unequivocally reject it as the feeble-minded product of a diseased mind – and here’s why.

Life is short, baby. Way, way too short for bad beer. If we’re going to spend the majority of our waking hours focused on the large scale consumption of alcohol, we should be drinking something we love to drink. Okay, Keystone Light gets the job done, but give me a fucking break. For those of you who have actually sat down and drank a keg or two of this stuff (or a depressingly similar brand), you’ll readily agree these slightly murky yellow liquids have more in common with  horse piss than what the rest of us would actually call “beer.” The alcohol content is negligible, and every time I drink a red cup of this swill I die a little bit inside. 
Case made. Let’s deal with a few of our objections. First of all, there is the money issue. Some would say $145 for a 15.5 gallon keg of some locally brewed deliciousness is too high a price to pay for liquid nirvana. I say, bullshit. I saw you driving down Pardall in your late-model BMW 3 Series. So, bullshit. 

Also, consider this. Although a keg of your favorite alcohol-flavored water might come in closer to $80, it’s really only the difference between four people pitching down just $20 apiece to help cover the cost of a better brew. If you don’t have four friends who would be willing to make moves to this degree, it’s probably because all your friends hate you because you drink too much cheap beer. 
Finally, it’s important to point out good beer always makes good parties, and anyone who suggests otherwise is probably mainlining Milwaukee’s Best. Delicious drinks are clinically proven to increase serotonin levels in both men and women, which translates for the less scientifically inclined among us down to this: better beer means more sex. Rebuff that, my Busch Light-swilling friends.

I’m not calling for the unnecessary over-civilization of our perpetually inebriated frontier town. I’m challenging you to take the time to enjoy the finer things in life, and maximize your opportunity to live a decadent lifestyle unparalleled anywhere in the known world. If you’re wondering if this is all just talk, swing by my place any Thursday and experience what I’m talking about. You’ll be privileged to witness indescribable madness, delectable debauchery and deliciously dank beer. Stay classy, Isla Vista.