Jäger does not have anywhere near the notoriety of bad flavor. People describe Jäger as tasting like licorice, Malört is described as tasting like if your shame and regret were fermented and filtered through a burning Chicago dumpster.
Malört, because you won’t be getting your security deposit back.
Malört, tonight is the day you fight your dad.
Malört, the official drink of poor decisions.
Malört, the strongly-worded last call.
Malört, because “fuck you” is polite.
You order Jäger and everybody is like ok, do you. You order Malört and the staff ask if you are sure and follow that up with asking if you are ok.
There is a bar that has $5 shots, Malört is $2.
At the local Binny’s(alcohol retailer), the manager initiates new hires with a shot of Malört.
Malört is something you need to experience, because I hate you.
This description makes me want to walk the half a mile to the nearest bar, order a shot, knock it back, pay in cash, and immediately walk home.
Not just out of curiosity but because now that sounds like the most “I really wish I knew more about what that person has going on” thing I’ll be able to do today.
So… Along the lines of Jager Meister, but worse?
Jäger does not have anywhere near the notoriety of bad flavor. People describe Jäger as tasting like licorice, Malört is described as tasting like if your shame and regret were fermented and filtered through a burning Chicago dumpster.
Malört, because you won’t be getting your security deposit back.
Malört, tonight is the day you fight your dad.
Malört, the official drink of poor decisions.
Malört, the strongly-worded last call.
Malört, because “fuck you” is polite.
You order Jäger and everybody is like ok, do you. You order Malört and the staff ask if you are sure and follow that up with asking if you are ok.
There is a bar that has $5 shots, Malört is $2.
At the local Binny’s(alcohol retailer), the manager initiates new hires with a shot of Malört.
Malört is something you need to experience, because I hate you.
This description makes me want to walk the half a mile to the nearest bar, order a shot, knock it back, pay in cash, and immediately walk home.
Not just out of curiosity but because now that sounds like the most “I really wish I knew more about what that person has going on” thing I’ll be able to do today.