"Well its gotta be Budwiesser beer, its the worst tasting beer in the World. No wonder its not in Australia. Thank Christ."
Ahhhh, my friend, but apparently, you haven't tasted "Hasen Pils" from scenic Augsburg, Germany (preferably 1st thing in the morning after having worked a week of midnight shifts.)
"Hasen" is German for "rabbit," and it tastes like the bunny on the lable has a kidney infection and personally contributed to every bottle... For a guy newly arrived in the Fatherland to have the misfortune to try THAT as his first "German beer," was quite a letdown, believe me! (Augsburg's fest beer, however, was awesome!)
Still, the worst thing I ever drank was "Ratzeputz" (sp?) -- a vile shot of some sort of unknown liquor that tastes like jalapeno juice mixed with Drano and packs a thermonuclear punch. On my first visit to a popular, local bar, an Artilleryman came to our table of Military Intelligence guys and ordered a shot of it, then passed it around while implying (not so subtly) how manly he was for being able to quaff the stuff. Each took a tiny sip and avoided retching, but when it got to me, I was determined with all the earnestness of an 18-year old, newly-minted soldier, to uphold the honor of our unit. So, I tossed it back, somehow managed the best acting job of my life by keeping a cool, poker face, and then ordered another for him and 1 for me. After 2 of those, I literally had tunnel vision.
I'm sure that time passed, but my only vague recollection was of making an admiring, if uncultured, comment in German about the spectacular attributes of our waitress (while totally forgetting that we were IN Germany...) that got me hustled out of there at light-speed by my friends... and when I woke up the next morning, I was mortified. In the 3 years that followed, I never again went within blocks of the place, largely from mortal embarrassment, and partly out of concern that somehow I might be identified as "THAT GUY" and beaten to a bloody pulp.
Worst I ever ate was unidentified Korean food brought to us as a present from a Korean lady we'd met, purchased at a local Korean deli. I don't know what it was, but I DO know it smelled of CS gas mixed with decomposing flesh and had some small shrimp in it... On top, there floated a thick, greasy, neon-orange/red oil slick that looked like something from the Exxon Valdez, and I think I saw some tentacles down below. For camouflage, they'd artfully mixed in some inoffensive-looking vegetables that shouldn't
ordinarily cause an instant urge to projectile-vomit... Beyond that, it boasted the foulest combination of spices, guano and Agent Orange flavors that a team of mad scientists bent on world destruction could develop after years of intensive research...
The long-suffering wife and I were determined to be properly appreciative of her kindness, and to try not to waste it. (Mercifully, this was after our guest had departed.) We each ate a couple of bites, carefully avoiding the shrieks of our "gut instincts" to
RUN AWAYYY!!!, and then mutually agreed that it had to go. I only wish there had been a toxic waste disposal site nearby...
Never again!!
John
"Pistols do not win wars, but they save the lives of the men who do. The noble 1911 is a mechanical marvel, whose ruggedness, dependability & ferocious power have comforted four issues of GIs and which, unlike any other instrument you can name, is as much superior to its rivals today as it was in 1917."
-Col. Jeff Cooper, 1968