Broke-Ass Porn: 40’s
Nothing says “I’m broke as shit, but I still wanna party” like a 40 oz bottle of malt liquor. Whether your particular potion is Mickey’s, St. Ides, Old English, Colt .45, or Steel Reserve, having a 40 in your hand shows the world that being “classy” just isn’t your thing.
I distinctly remember my first 40. It was back in the days when Death Row Records ruled the charts and every sixteen year old boy’s rap video fantasy was to be at a party where the fridge was filled with nothing but malt liquor. I was probably 15 at the time and shared a bottle of Mickey’s with three of my buddies at a bonfire at La Jolla Shores. Back then we were never able to finish the bottle; we drank slowly enough that the last three fingers worth always got too warm.
Today, almost 15 years later, I salute the venerable 40 oz for single handedly making every house party, bonfire, and day in the park, that much better.
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Do you remember your first 40? If so leave a comment and share your story. I promise I won’t tell your mom.
8 Comments
Edward 40 Hands
I don’t remember the first nor do I remember the last, but I remember too many.
Remember it like it was yesterday. It was about 3pm on a random summer afternoon when I had just turned 16. Was with a boy I totally had a crush on, and I wanted to impress him. He took me to these “secret” caves off Grizzly Peak near Tilden Park in Berkeley. To access them you had to hike down a sheer cliff littered with (you guessed it) broken 40-oz bottles and trash, then climb UP a rock wall and into the cave. I drank the whole damn thing and bruised almost my whole body (and definitely my whole ego) trying to get back to the car on the return journey to the car. Great times!
I’m pretty sure my first 40 was stolen from 7-11, and I drank it with a bunch of dudes behind the UTC mall. It was either that time, or at my first bonfire in Pacific Beach.
I think I was fourteen or fifteen on a family trip to Destin Fla and I got a cousin to get me and some girls and older dudes 40’s. Smooched drunk on the beach and then woke my dad up asking him to give everyone rides home eventhough we had all walked to meet up- busted…
I was eleven and my female friends were giving me shit for not enjoying the B&J’s wine cooler crap with them. I remember it was an older guy at the party who talked me out of the berry swill to well, actual swill. I believe it was a steel reserve.
I was 15 and with a bunch of skater guys at the park by my house. We were smoking pot (not my first and not the last time)and Marlboro Reds.
We got a homeless guy at 7-11 to buy our 40s and I got hammered.
Those were the days!
Upstate NY. Midnight Dragon. Drove to the ghetto where no one cards a 15 year old.