Greatest American tradition owned by Belgians to clomp through Waldo today

As Missourians, I think we all remember that sweltering summer of 2008 when we collectively paused with the can of St. Louis’ own Budweiser at our lips, yellowy lager choked in our throats. Not that the choking was unique. We knew the torpid notes of hops and melancholy. No, it was the knowledge that the King of American Beers had just been sold to the Belgians. Fucking bicycle sprinters.

Now two years later the people who gave us Brussels sprouts and Jean-Claude Van Damme are clip-clopping their mockery of America through Waldo.