Death to Zima

I had a friend in grad school who eventually left physics behind to become a brewmaster. He was a fan of beer, which put him in the same league as, oh, say, Wrigley Field spectators, but he backed that up with a lot of knowledge about beer. He also hated Zima, with a passion and ferocity normally reserved for your political opposition. He once stated that he wanted to invent time travel, go back in time, and kill the guy who invented Zima. When the TV show Babylon 5 featured a Zima sign in the space station’s bar, I’m sure his blood pressure skyrocketed.

Now he doesn’t have to invent time travel: a mere sixteen years after its introduction, MillerCoors is killing off the beverage. I love that they’re getting rid of it because of “challenging malternative segment sales and declining consumer interest.” Malternatives! I will have to spend the rest of the day saying “malternative” to people. There’s something about portmanteau words like that that make me feel all tingly and happy.

Now I just have to invent Martineer, the metrosexual malternative.

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