Bobbing for Redd’s Apple Ale

Have you ever wanted to have a barbeque but didn’t want to deal with the hassle spending invaluable time with loved ones during your dwindling time in this world? D-D-D-Dying alone. Redd’s Apple Ale has your bitch ass covered! For a small fee, several total strangers will come to your barbeque dressed in Redd’s Apple Ale polos and create enough Instagram content for years to come.

Why talk to people when you could be competing in activities! Pants shitting. Instagram likes. Viral content. Not your grandfather’s influencer. Influence uninterested acquaintances!

You won’t be able to hear or see shit when your head is plunged into cooler full of ice cold water with several loose bottles of Redd’s Apple Ale floating about. Concussion like symptoms. And don’t even try and come up for air until you’ve wrangled one of those floating bottles in your mouth! The Redd’s Apple Ale employees won’t let you! Oops you’re drowning.

Chipped tooth anyone? It doesn’t matter because you’re shit canned on a drink that makes Zima look like Bacardi 151! Get laid, but not really because you’re a loser!Boomerang yourself swallowing a whole bottle and win a koozie! Cough up a combination of water and blood and get all the chicks!

Say goodbye to boring barbeques where friends and family spend time thoroughly enjoying each other’s company and say hello to Redd’s Apple Ale Extreme Meat Burn!

Low key summer BBQ turns into 12 hour binger with no food

Chicago, IL-A relaxing barbeque amongst friends transformed into a knock-down-drag-out drinking extravaganza in record time over the weekend. Like all Chicago barbeques, food was meticulously curated and friends and spouses alike agreed it would be the perfect opportunity to enjoy some good food, good company and perhaps even a beer or glass of wine before retreating home to watch a movie and get an adequate amount of rest before the impending work week.

As the day progressed, and one beer turned into a handle of Rumplemintz with a carton of American Spirits to boot, it became apparent that food had lost relevancy. The early start of the BBQ, originally functioning as an early curfew safeguard, ended up merely piling on additional hours of frenzied drinking.

Prospective burdens of the week melted with the ice in the cooler, and a feeling of regal invincibility settled in as wine glasses swelled like the livers they poured on. Monday would never come, or if it did it would surely be someone else’s problem. The impending hangover would serve as a lesson to employers, a reminder that wrestling with Monday hangovers are as much a part of the weekend as Sunday drinking.

As the barbeque concluded, the guest’s divinity receded with each glass of water, each minute of restless sleep, and they became fully aware that Wednesday would be the next time they felt human.