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When I was but a wee lad my father was given a prescription from his doctor to drink 1 pint of stout with the evening meal. My father had red coloured water for blood and was losing weight. Geritol and other supplements didn't seem to be doing anything. My father poured a little into a small glass for me to taste. I took a big mouthful and promptly ran to the sink to spit it out. My father said it worked because the taste was so bad you'd eat anything to try and get rid of it.
When I was 18 me and my friends would go out to the local "Men's Room" (pubs for men only) seeing as that was the legal age in Ontario in 1971. They'd order pitcher after pitcher of draught beer while I'd sip but never finish a single glass. I never did learn to like the taste of beer. Even the smell of it would put me off.
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