The bottle says that this is the official beer of the largest horse race event in Belgium. That’s like being the official lager of the largest Magic: the Gathering tournament in Stockton. People play the hell out of that game there.

Schommelpeird, Imperial Amber, 12% abv (seriously) De Sruise Brothers

A: This beer looks like a dirty mucky lake water. It’s like if I just put Millerton Lake water in 33cl bottles. With all the Keystone and jetfuel in Millerton lake, this is likely what is tastes like by now. The carbonation is awesome and, not to knock the appearance but it is just strange, it levels out in strata and foams like there’s some serious political rally going on in there.

S: Holy sweet candy sugar sweet taffysmooch. It is brown sugar wrapped in caramel coated in marshmellow foam dipped in molted rock candy. Just incredibly sweet, like that unmarked Econoline van outside the preschool. There’s also some clove, banana, esters, and belgian spices, but no one thinks that shit is funny, and I can’t turn those into pedophile jokes, OR CAN I?

T: Also like the Econoline, there’s no sweetness and things get bitter and disorienting pretty quickly. It tastes like an herbal brown ale, or a malty ESB, or, well there’s some serious penumbra and Venn Diagram orgy going on here, I am left completely shaded. There’s this stemmy herbal taste at the front that is not that tight, sub-tight even. I dont know how one is supposed to go about enjoying this, Struise I am disappoint.

M: This is rather thin for the huge candy/herbal/pennies flavor going on. I guess that’s good since the malt tastes similar to burnt yard trimmings, so I wouldn’t be stoked if they just went even more apeshit on those sort of residual sugars. A single Phish set is just fine, 33cl of Phish, just the right amount of jam band for me.

D: Not at all. Unless you are a coinstar machine of a Honduran gardener, then these tastes would be right at home up in your grillspot. I can’t get on board with this madness, it’s just all over the place, not exactly bad, just really confusing, like those complex Ben Stiller epics. I can’t recommend this, but it’s not like you will run across this “brewed-once” strange ass style anyway. So if you take an amber ale like your favorite old Fat Tire and fattened the shit out of it, you get a tire full of copper. Good to know. Currency crisis solved.

Narrative: “Ok, so here’s the pitch, so main male interest fall in love with Mila Kunis, but SHE IS EIGHT FEET TALL! We call it AmorISIMO!” Barry Merken’s movie pitches always did this. “Barry, wait what? You had us, we love it but, why does she have to be eight feet tall? What does that even add to the ‘surviving genocide’ subtext?” Barry capped the Steno chiseltip marker with frustration and began furiously erasing the entire pitch, “YOU KNOW WHAT FINE! Fine, let’s just make her the quirky, clearly hotter friend of the girl introduced in act one, how about that? Mix it up?” MGM was running out of time, they needed to push through another by-the-number romantic comedy or Ryan Reynolds would walk. “Barry, we loved the concept, it was essentially another Victoria love triangle set in lower east side Manhattan, we love it, just no giants.” Barry was the master of writing the exact same 82 minute movie, but his more recent efforts seemed to make very little sense. “Ok what about Reese Witherspoon is a baker, he is allergic to sugar but comes in every day to the bakery because HIS PENIS IS AN EXTENSION CORD.” The MGM board folded up their equipage and hastily exited the room. “OK FINE! NORMAL PENIS! FINE AND HOW ABOUT HE STOPS HER FROM MARRYING THE GUY WHO IS CLEARLY AN ASSHOLE IN THE FIRST 12 MINUTES OF THE MOVIE, but,” the investors turned and listened attentively, “but then, THAT GUY HAS AN EXTENSION CORD DICK!” Door slam.