Budweiser

Small town suffocation was her disease of which there was no cure. She was a thumb twiddler, part-time casino card fiddler who was aching to be noticed for a craft she'd not yet obtained. It was an unreasonably hot day and the famed Clydesdales that she was posing with were spewing horse hair in all directions, layering the photo shoot and all its props in a blanket of gold. She cleverly recited the acronym she had been taught while smiling for the camera in the Bud dress so many girls would covet the chance to wear..."Budweiser- because you deserve what every individual should enjoy regularly". She was stuck in America and felt as if she was drowning in the monotony of amber'd waves of grain. Singing hallelujah and the praises of a bottle of horse piss.