Some of the honey the family has in storage is beginning to ferment. I could tell by the smell. Had I been fifteen years younger I would have been excited about having real mead in the house, even if the amount of it was miniscule. After all, mead was right up there with ambrosia as the Gatorade of Gods and Heroes. Sadly, I could also tell by the resultant smell that mead really does taste like piss.
Whatever You Do, Stay Away From...
Tanduay Rhum (any variant)
Lousy smell, aftertaste that is reminiscent of really old Christmas fruitcake.
Maria Clara Sangria
When warm, it reeks like rhum. If you must have it, serve it real cold.
Red Horse Beer
There's a reason why they call it Red Horse.
Marketing ploy. I can smell it a mile away. Probably still the same Marca Demonyo wrapped up in ice-blue celphone-weilding Gen-X/Y savvy.
My friend Rey Reyes (God rest his soul) swore on the efficacy of this concoction to give you a blinding migraine. I have not tried it; I do not wish to try it. Composition: lots of gin + lots of beer. (Yes, my roleplaying friends-- I talk like a dwarf, but drink like an elf.)
Bars that serve you stiff drinks in miniscule amounts for ridiculously high prices
Don't pay attention to the midriff-baring women, they are succubi. Do not indulge them when they ask you if you'd like another shot of _____. Even as you lose yourself in the delights of bosom and bellybutton, they are busy ripping your money out of your wallet.
Always remember: "If ye be wanting a shastishfying dhrink, jusss find yershelf a tavern th' sherves the good shtuff in cope- cope- copious amountsh. At leasht there ye can pass out on the floor."