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Deschutes Black Butte XXIII, Porters Don’t Get Much More Imperial Than This

I never really know how to straddle these imperial porters. Regular porters are often so far away in scope and execution, but imperial stouts are completely different beasts altogether. Suffice it to say, I enjoy this style a ton when they are executed well, but if it’s too big, it eats shit like a Korean gymnast. Lucky for us, this one sticks the landing, sticks it so hard.

Droppin twanky tres on em.

Deschutes xxiii Black Butte Imperial Porter 10.5% abv

A: This has a slippery BP black with mild wateriness and deep amber hues, great carbonation and a fantastic presentation. The legs do not show through that well and if this is an imperial porter, it’s a pretty fucking powerful empire because the maltiness toes the line into a stout-tranny, er, you know what I mean.

I won’t say I am afraid of this beer, but it is capable of some dangerous shit.

S: There is an orange rind smell with licorice light and smokiness. It smells amazing. This is one of the most aromatic porters that I have ever encountered and I still get jazzed every time someone busts one of these out. You get some nice vanilla, oak, and light waft of alcohol.

T; There is a great slickness with a little juniper herbal finish to it. The front is similar to dark chocolate notes but the mouthfeel is distinctly porter not stout. It has a finishing dryness with a lingering sweetness. Just fantastic all around on the tastey sesh. I really enjoy the interesting venn diagram that it creates between stouts and porters in that it is still distinctly huge and mildly watery, relative to an imperial stout, but still maintains its character very well. It’s the difference between a chocolate milkshake and some gourmet Yoohoo. Feel me?

There’s a bit of gentle lightness in this deep darkness that delivers the sweetness to your facehole.

M: The coating is huge, probably the thickest porter that I have encountered. This easily gives Victory at Sea a run for its money. I want more and alas, I cannot obtain it that easily after the run is done. I would stack this right next to Birth of Tragedy, albeit below it as a fine example of a beastly porter that delivers harder than a Ramen courier.

D: This is a split ticket decision. On one hand you have a big foamy, filling, high abv porter that imparts considerable dryness. On the other hand, it is so well balanced and delicious, you could drink this into a stupor. Ultimately I will side with the party that supports consuming delicious things at length. If you have soft little hands and a light stride, sure, have an 8oz taster and move on. The rest of us will engage in a bacchanalian festival of porters and rejoicing.

This is deep and dark but menacing at the same time.

Narrative: Mocha stared knowingly at the horizon, sensing a storm was coming. Her penguin bretheren were too busy diving for squid in the shallows to pay attention. However, deep in Mocha’s soul she felt that insightful knowledge, that looming storm. They would chastise her, call her serious and forlorn and continue with their gallivanting. Day by day the temperatures were steadily rising and no one seemed to care. Sage old Mocha wiped her brow and pecked at the shallow pools. No one believed her when she predicated the great migration, no one trusted her when she foresaw the epic enclosure and flock partition, but now, here they were, in the Cleveland Zoo, and things were getting worse. Some Browns fans had showed up to the habitat and were throwing pork rinds into the water. Their jowls shook violently as they guffawed at the penguins splashing playfully. Mocha lowered her gaze at these overweight humans and noted, “mom’s gonna fix it all soon, mom’s gonna drown us set back to the way it oughta be.”

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10 Barrel S1nist0r Black Ale, Soop3r L33Tz 4L3z !!11!!!!

SrslY S1nisT0rzzz!!!! guize srsly.

10 Barrel Brewing Co.
Oregon, United States
American Black ale Ale | 5.40% ABV

A: This appears like a regular stout with the mild khaki carbonation, deep brown/blackish hues and nice malty roasted character. But OH WAIT, this old chestnut where we call something a black ale so the consumer has no fucking clue what to expect. Hop bomb? Chocolate sex? Smokey ballsack? Who knows, it’s fucking black ale, that’s like how a sorority girl orders a beer, by color, shit tells me nothing about what is inside. Uinta made this same mistake on an incredible imperial stout and I feel bad that they did, Labyrinth was tits up. Anyway, nice foamy character and comes off like a watery porter.

Mashing so hard on a thin black ale not unlike a baby otter.

S: The nose has a very light smokiness to it with a mild sweetness. A bit watery, nothing to lose your mind over. A solid beer depending on how much you pay for it. I got this as an extra so who knows if this beer goes balls to the wall on price or if it nestles up against Green Flash and Lagunitas in the deals bin.

T: The taste is thin and refreshing with an almond sweetness to it. There’s a very faint bit of milkiness and maple syrup but the palate is so thin you don’t really have time to focus on it. There’s a good balance to it with some mild bittering. The hops present a cocoa dryness that rounds it out nicely.

If a kennel just said “Black dog” for adoption, I would be satisfied for this one.

M: This is very thin but it doesn’t feel like it came up short, it feels intentional, and that somehow makes it ok. The lacing is fantastic, but the coating is relatively minimal, which is a bit anomalous. Again, not disappointing though. I always feel like when someone presents a black ale, it is a genre that is so amorphous it is tough to really determine what you are about to get. Sometimes you get an imperial stout monster like Labyrinth, other times you get this dapper gentleperson. Who can ever tell. Anyway, not even mad tho, it was decent but nothing I would keep a picture of in my military footlocker. You know it would just be getting popped by every other dude in Oregon.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and the color is the only thing that might be offputting to people. It is a strange hybrid that brings a bit of IPA to the table and a bit of Stout in the mix. Overall, pretty solid beer and I would recommend a bomber or two to any willing participant.

Not sure what their intent was with this one.

Narrative: The hackneyed carriage clipped along steadily over the cobblestone streets and the slick London night was further obfuscated by misty clouds. Sir Grimsly peered at his silver pocket watch and sighed at how long the opera had taken. His finely tailored suit of rich velvet fit precisely and his jet black hair was slicked with a fragrant pomade. “Carlton, please, slow a bit!” He called to the carriage driver. He lifted the lacy ebony curtain and looked out into the dark night and noticed a single cat, staring intently upon the carriage as it slid to a stop. The cat peered knowingly and its obsidian coat shined in the night. It appeared to nod and signal to the magistrate. With a blink it disappeared. Sir Grimsley looked up and noted the mandate from today’s proceedings laying on the adjacent seat, unexecuted. With a forceful sigh, Sir Grimsley signed the stay of execution and set the prisoner free. The night shone with a furious depth, the slick streets ploshed with knowing applause.

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Baird / Ishii / Stone Japanese Green Tea IPA, A Pretty Core Foreign Exchange sTEAdent

Maybe I just don’t get it, but why does Stone need to collaborate with so many fucking people on each collaboration brew? Three breweries at once? Four? What did Ishii do for this one? Select the Tea in the online cart? Anyway, so here’s another crazy Stone threesome. Their standard IPA offerings are decent and a gentle hand of reprieve at B.J.’s so let’s see if this ups the ante into an axis of tea meets hops domination.

Time to play that classic game where you point out something in the background of my picture and make a clever quip about the vintage or rarity. Ah, never gets old.

Stone Brewing Co.
California, United States
American Double / Imperial IPA | 9.20% ABV

A: Bright orange huges with gold tones at the edges. There is minimal lacing and moderate carbonation. No middle carbonation. The legs aren’t broken, but they hobble along with an antalgic limp. This literally looks almost identical to Ruination, not that it’s a bad thing, but you figure with three entire breweries on deck, shit would get mixed up a little bit.

With several small elements in play, you can accomplish big things.

S: Big hop nose to it with citra and Amarillo, grapefruit rind and lemon zest. Lots of herbal backing but predominately Pliny/Sculpin-esque juiciness. Really great smell to this. It is akin to a refined Ruination, man, really wearing out that analogy here aren’t we? I don’t get much tea and I drank this crazy fresh.

T: There is a slight juiciness but a sharp crispness to it on the herbal note. It isn’t quite pine but it has a distinct grassiness to it. The tea notes are very faint but present. If the taste stuck to the aromatic lines it would have been exceptional, however, it is a bit divergent once you actually taste it. I imagine the board meeting being something like Stone letting them know that they had plans to put tea in a Stone IPA/Ruination cuvee and Baird and Ishii would be allowed to toss some tea in the boil.

Impressive. (C:/run_notracist.exe)

M: The mouthfeel is thin and crisp, on point with the style and very reminiscent of the regular Stone IPA with less maltiness. Hardly any coating is present but that is a good thing given the juicy and herbal notes. If a huge malt backbone were present it would be distracting, but then maybe this would be that hipster darjeeling treat that I was anticipating.

D: This is an exceptionally drinkable beer, with the proviso that you must enjoy the herbal notes going on. If the grassy bite does not turn you away, this could easily become your session beer. The high abv is not noticeable at all and leaves nothing to be desired for back to back drinking. Easily the best part of this beer, but I drank this like 9 months ago or something so it WOULD PRLY BE A SHELL OF ITS FERMER SELF.

OMG. TEA AND HOPS IN A- wait, this is almost just a regular DIPA. Sealion remains unimpressed.

Narrative: The rocking of the vessel in the Atlantic was rhythmic at times, and maddening at others. Cameron Brackish wondered if his profession was a bit out of place in this modern bustling economy, however, that blast of crisp ocean spray in his face won him over more so than any woman ever could. “Sir! The cargo of Darjeeling has come unfastened, I-” Mr. Brackish threw up a single threadbare palm and deftly gripped the thick rope and descended into the galley to inspect the tea shipment. There was the stank odor of sopping wet tea leaves, mixing with the misty air, creating a chokingly herbal intoxicating air. “Calibrate the GPS to embrace all headwinds!” He called to his first mate. Life was hard when you refused to embrace modern technology and embraced antiquated professions. “WE NEED TO GET THIS EARL GREY TO INDIAN PORTS AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!” It certainly was no tea party.

1

Southern Star Buried Hatchet Stout, People in Texas Like Guns, Stars, Stouts, and Hatchets.

Wait what. I know what you are thinking “Texas is too fucking hot to be cranking out stouts, I’m looking at you Jester King.” But hold your horses, this beer comes in a can, so that means you can drill this shit next to the river with your Eliminator tied up after a day of game fishing. Imperial stouts are made for cans, how else are you going to shotgun that shit in the NASCAR parking lot? I am sure the Michigan kids are shaking their heads disdainfully at this enterprise, but let’s see if any fucks can be given to this bold star from the south.

I enjoyed this in between games of beer pong with Bruery’s Run BMC; trying to get the legit Texas vibe for this review.

Southern Star Brewing Company
Texas, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 8.25% ABV

A: deep brown notes with wateriness and tons of small bubbles no lacing. It seems a bit thinner than I was expecting a bit maltiness and coating. Beggars cannot concurrently exist as choosers, as the old children’s fable goes. I am looking in the rest of the can for the imperial, but if I learned anything from Central Waters or Czar Jack, you get get ninjafucked in the mouth by a sneaky stealth stout imparting a mild wateriness.

This reminds me of a certain imperial porter whose name I shall not bring up in mixed company.

S: It maintains a nice chocolate waft with some black licorice, some mild anise, and brown sugar closer. Pretty solid package for something that CAME FROM A CAN. But seriously, I enjoy the mildly watery aspect of this and it doesn’t go overboard on any single aspect, perfectly balanced like a Dan Brown novel.

T: There is a deep maltiness, that coats well with a ton of brown sugar stickiness. It dries a bit early and goes a little watery at the end. Candidly, this was a lot better than I expected. I was judgmental due to the can but it powered through like a solid bro. The chocochariot rolls up on a lightly malty steed and the masses cast garlands of cocoa nibs and coffee beans. However, the chariot is being driven by two dripping wet dudes in scuba gear.

Thin stout, from Texas, from a can. That stout cray.

M: The coating is pretty thin and didn’t support the ambitious profile that the taste profile presented. It reminds me of the time I turbo charged a 94 Ford Probe, it just couldn’t handle the power under the hood/can. As a side note, wow brown walnut and cocoa really makes it hard to nuke this beer altogether but still, the mouthfeel was a disappointment more akin to the porter realm.

D: Given the super thin character, I guess this can be more versatile but that’s akin to downgrading the size of an engine to improve MPG. It is very drinkable but it comes at a cost. Overall, a pretty legit experience, it feels like an Oasis concert. You aren’t mad that you went but it just feels like they phoned it in. I want an iced version of this beer, make it fucking happen Texas.

Despite its calm demeanor, this beer can probably still fuck you up pretty efficiently.

Narrative: Nabeel was the thinnest barista at the local Starbucks. His tiny hands precisely ground and pounded the beans efficiently. Still, his coworkers couldn’t help but notice his prominent cheek bones reflecting the halogen lights. They further couldn’t look away from his apron hanging slackly off of his concave chest. “Mocha Frap double shot no whip, upside down, zebra.” he called out and quickly spun to begin his next order. “Nabeel is like a tiny barista cyborg sent from the India of the past, which is known as our future to revolutionize the coffee serving enterprise as we know it.” one co-worker quipped in a manner oddly profound for a 17 year-old part time employee. What they didn’t know was that Nabeel held a stict vegan diet and supplemented his lifestyle with incredibly strong coffee, which only seemed to accent his thin nature. “BARISTANATOR!” the perfunctory co-worker added, to the uncaring 2 other employees who were far too busy stacking adjectives upon coffee drinks.

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Fantome Saison, The Original Belgian Incorporeal Gangster Clapping Funky Stacks Like Rack City

This was the first Fantome that I ever tried and it changed the game for me and saisons. This beer took artistic license and made it clear that old saisons aint nothin to fuck wit. Anyway, I love this brewery, their saisons open up my ghost trap and get my pK meter blasting off the charts. Just don’t cross my streams.

Glassware fail, as usual. I have been pining for a Fantome glass since back when the Fantome ghost was in a corporeal form.

Brasserie Fantôme
Belgium
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 8.00% ABV

A: Huge grapefruit juice hues, great tiny bubbles, and archipelago lacing rounds out this beer. It has a solid pineapple and orange juice hue with murkiness to it that enhances the glow. Some people complain about the inconsistent nature of this beer but every. single. bottle that I have ever had of this beer had rocked a serious ghost erection through and through.

The ghost will wreck you and embrace you like Bruce Willis in the 6th sense AT THE SAME TIME.

S: There’s huge Belgian spice, nutmeg, clove, and almost brettanomyces funkiness to it. It almost has a wet cardboard muskiness to it. A bit of tartness on the finish that makes this both complex and interesting. There’s some nice fruits like granny smith apples, white grape, and tangelo. This ghost gets all up in your faceholes.

T: Wow, this is unlike any of the other musky spicey saisons that I have previously encountered. This almost has a wild ale character to it. The initial taste is a sweet biscuity hefe taste with some honey notes, the spices kick in and give it the taste of a tart apple baked good. I love the incredible funky sour finish. It is really impressive for the style and imparts an incredible citrus note at the end. As it warms you get some white grapes and tropical fruits. I could drink this all day long and the abv is hidden like a funk ninja.

I WANT MOER THES SO BAED!

M: It has a great murkiness that expands with a funky wheat tone. The coating isn’t overly aggressive but its has a great wheat profile that expands into a biscuity chewiness. Just like all the other foamy carbonation superbikes, this Fantome imparts a huge foamy peelout that is satisfying.

D: I initially was not a huge fan of this style but I must tip my hat and admit concessions to this amazing saison. I gave this to my girlfriend and she noted that it was “pretty good” which is the equivalent of a gold star on her scale. I could give this to any, single, person and rest assured that he or she would enjoy it immensely. The universal appeal is off the scale. I am perpetually in search of Fantome gems.

Santa knows how to fucking rage it. If you have Fantomes in your fridge, you can rally so hard.

Narrative: Lakitu loved the cloud life. Day in day out, tossing refreshing spined monsters down upon the earth. “HEY THERE OLD LAKITU! STILL RUINING PEOPLE’S SHIT?” Lakitu gave a knowing nod and proceeded to throw a spiked beast from 300 feet shattering the small dry cleaning business below. Some would say “hey lakitu, why not just be a refreshing cloud, you know, water the crops and all?” Maybe for a standard refreshing cloud, but Lakitu was born with bite. His acidic temperament fueled his anger and made it rain, not unlike Yung Dro in an Atlanta strip club; notwithstanding instead of dollars it was hateful monsters showered upon the masses below. Life could be worse, you could be an asshole like that Bullet Bill.

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Central Waters Brewing Company Satin Solstice Imperial Stout, Smoother than a KMART Print Ad

So if you have been following my reviews, unlikely, you know that I have loved all previous outings with this brewery. The Bourbon Barrel stout and BB Barleywine were awesome, Peruvian Morning was legit, and I am confident that this gentle darkness will deliver. Let’s investigate riparian rights

At Bed Bath and Beyond, satin shit costs more, but it is always worth it.

Central Waters Brewing Company
Wisconsin, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 7.50% ABV

A: The pour on this beer looks like a deep cola color but with a really light sheeting and light brown clarity. There’s a certain wateriness to the pour that makes me doubt how legit the imperial aspect of this stout is. At 7.5% I further am stymied as to how big this empire is. Maybe it is like the Portuguese empire, small but a strong aquatic presence.

I mean just look at this beer. Look at it.

S: There is a mild dry cocoa and bakers chocolate aspect to it with wafts of some light coffee and mild acidity. There’s not a ton of complexity here but, like a Rob Schneider movie, you can appreciate the sweet delivery and gentle complexity. You don’t get a wateriness, but it seems like the smell is that hot mormon girl that you want to cajole into dancing, but the wall remains the only caress.

T: The taste is incredibly light and slick. The term watery is almost a pejorative for imperial stouts, but this seems intentional and well done as a result. It imparts a light coffee and and mild chocolate acidity, with a slight tobacco aspect. I want to say that the alcohol is well hidden, but it isn’t exactly rampaging in the first place. The mild and gentle aspect seems like a dad who is super chill and dims the lights when you bring home a girl and goes upstairs. Keeping it classy.

This beer is small, yet humbling, not my favorite of their lineup, but I love them anyway.

M: So this is just beating the bittersweet chocolate horse, but it clearly isn’t some malt monster and the coating isn’t like some Mobil 1 shit. The slick watery quality keeps it in the lightweights and I would say it is almost a venn diagram issue between the stout and imperial stout but the penumbra is pretty delicious. Go google penumbra, don’t worry, I’ll wait.

D: Well where the stout gets its jimmies rustled in the last section it comes out swinging in this section. Not since Czar Jack has a thin stout come out this drinkable and refreshing. No long will you have to hide indoors and ski lodges sipping stouts with dark shame, this one could see the light of day with some girls with platinum blonde hair with black underneath, at home in all circumstances. I would say this is still a strong recommendation and the price tag of $1.89 on the bottle leads me to believe that this is a sick deal, through and through.

I could see a few of these tearing up your house.

Narrative: No narrative today, too eslaypee.

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Live Oak Hefeweizen, The Smoothest Drink Since They Discontinued Ectocooler

Happy Cinco de Mayo. I already busted my cerveza sustantivo earlier this week when I rocked the fuck out of Coronita, so I wanted to do the next best thing. ULTIMATE TEXAS SESSION BEER. I know what everyone is thinking, because I know what I was thinking: “I DON’T LIKE TEH HEFANDWEIZENS, THATS BEER FOR N00BZ.” Sure, but when it is the absolute best hef that I have ever tasted, DOES THAT CHANGE YOUR FUCKING TUNE SIDNEY BECHET? Seriously, this beer is amazing and, appropriately enough, the only times I have received it have been in 2L growlers. As a bonus, you can even give this to attractive people and they will probably drink it and like it, BOOM ROASTED.

The perfect beer to enjoy while watching NBC's hit musical series, SMASH, because after you kill all 64oz, you can smash the growler over your fucking head.

Live Oak Brewing Company
Texas, United States
Hefeweizen | 5.20% ABV

Live Oak Hefeweisen

A: It radiates light with a murky yellow gold undertone, almost like a mountain dew yellow 5 radiance. Nice mild lacing and bubbly head with micro bubbles. If this were a superhero film it would likely be some radioactive substance that provides superhuman properties, which is not entirely untrue; provided that property is drinking 64 oz to myself and passing out on the living room floor. BUT WILL I USE THIS POWER FOR GOOD OR EVIL?

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S: Just fantastic, great lemon muted notes, not overly possessive, it provides lemon at your leisure like an understanding girlfriend. It has a great biscuit smell, like an English muffin with agave syrup on it. Super crisp and refreshing. You ever french kiss a cactus in a delirium from poorly made orange zest wine? Well then you will know what the fuck is going on with this splishy splashy shot of refreshment.

T: Amazing honey taste with very mild cirtus hop presence. It feels like biting into a lemon crueller or bear claw but if it were incredibly light in character. Its effervesence is so crisp and bubbly that that first pint glass was gone almost instantly, not by design. There is an underlying motif of Belgian sweetness that never reveals itself, like a silent protagonist somewhere in the wings of the opera house that is my palate.

Unlike this truck, this beer is probably one of the best things to come out of Texas.

M: This is about as light as it gets and it is all the better for it. It imparts a brackish bit of coating to accompany the nice citrus notes and just has a very thin foaminess to it all around. All in all, it is incredibly refreshing.

D: This may go head to head with Gumballhead for the most drinkable beer that I can think of. It is better than Gumballhead in fact because the hops do not obstruct the sheer guzzle ability of this beer. You could drink this in any circumstance for long periods of time. It is the ultimate session beer and it is disheartening to know how difficult it is to get in California because I would need several growlers of this given how fast it would disappear.

I merked the growler while I was prepartying and I ended up with a burgundy pixie wig in my pocket and 6 stamps on my hand. Pretty solid night.

Narrative: Easy Jasper was the town mechanic in the sleepy old town of Chataqua, Texas. Well, he wore many hats, old Jasper was the magistrate, deacon, bailiff, and district superintendent; but he operated out of Easy Jasper’s Lazytime Garage. Folks would come in from miles around with torque converters all busted up, slipping trannies, and limited slip differentials downright in shabby shape. Easy Jasper would take a sip of his old sweet lemonade and give the lowest price quote for miles around. Patrons not only had no choice, but he was downright fair through and through. He would bask in the sun like a lazy gecko and ponder the discs and gears involved, the deviations in a cam shaft and sleepily get to work. He was the smoothest old curr in Chataqua, but God damn did he get the job done. “Thanks Jasper! My Lotus Elise would have been in shambles if not for you, please let me-” “Nahhhh nahhhh, aint noooo body gonna give Jass- per no….guff.” He would wave them off with an oil stained glove and sip his refreshing orange drank lithely. A lazy son of a bitch, but did he ever get the job done.

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Kuhnhenn Barrel Aged 4th Dementia, The Perfect Beer Prior to a Parent Teacher Conference

Ah Old Ales, for those times when new ales just aren’t new enough and sobriety just seems like such a hassle. The perfect beverage for right before a Parent Teacher Conference, particularly this barrel aged monster. Well, let’s see if this helps you escape some demons in today’s run into the 4th DEMENTIA.

Barrel Aged Old Ales: No Longer Just For Salty Old Sea Captains and Sobbing Divorcees.

Kuhnhenn Bourbon Barrel 4th Dementia, 13.5% abv, Old Ale

A: The bottle was almost completely flat with very minimal carbonation that dissipated very quickly with dark khaki bubbles that fizzled like the plot of an Owen Wilson film. The beer looks like a deep dark mahogany treat. The beer leaves this slick alcoholic coating to the edges that is clear but serves as potent reminder of the beast that you are about to wrangle to the earth.

This seems like a deal for all the sweet decadence that you are receiving, but it ultimately does a number on your life.

S: Holy ABV bombs. Not since Chocolate rain and Dark Lord vacated the premises has such a ridiculously boozy beer appeared on the scene. It isn’t that the ABV itself is so high that it is overwhelming cum de Utopias, it is more that the ABV just doesn’t give a shit. It posts up, leaves muddy alcoholic boots in the entryway and proceeds to rifle through the pantry in your nose. It is unabashed and very apparent. This isn’t the regular old 4th Dementia that I recalled., this is it’s alcoholic brother. I kinda like him more, in a weird way. There’s also some vanilla, toffee and mild figs but, covered in bourbon.

T: Again, don’t smoke while drinking this beer, the abv will ignite and BOY WILL YOUR FACE BE RED. This has an intense bourbon heat at the outset that fades into a deep sweetness and plum maltiness. The vanilla and chocolate is present and lends some complexity with all the oak and dry notes that round out this crazy chimera. Also, alcohol.

Again, this beer is both sinister and sweet. Sticky and evil at the same time. Pic related.

M: This has a hot slickness to it similar to a baby chocolate rain, chocolate drizzle if you will. The bourbon hit’s the gum line and warms your chest not unlike a salt shell from a 12 gauge. The mouth doesn’t really coat in a huge way like an imperial stout, this crazy hybrid feels like a Belgian Dubbel gone on a bender rampage. For a sipping beer, this is nice and relaxing. Also, not that it would really matter but, the lack of carbonation just made the angry abv even more rampant. My mouth was left pleading to the police that he didn’t mean it, and assured them that this beer was a “good one” and that it did not wish to press charges.

D: This is hardly drinkable in the 12oz format and, if they offered bombers that would be remiss to not offer a life insurance policy with it. The average user couldn’t take on this beast, and the average craft kid would likely feel that it was too boozy. The lack of carbonation made it all the more apparent that this beer is not here for you, it is present to shirk the trappings of a normal life. I have to knock this beer on the drink ability and overall overwhelming nature of the bourbon notes. If I wanted to kiss a Kentucky trucker, I JUST WOULD GO AND DO IT OK.

Drink one of these at 2 a.m., the sky is the limit.

Narrative: No matter how often he strayed from the straight and narrow, Clemson Biggs knew that he would somehow end up ok. “Hey, uh, Clem, we noticed that you went and vomited all over the side of your freightliner, again.” Clem pushed back the bill of his worn Bill Earnhardt Jr hat, with the Jr. scrawled out. “Oh, I’m SSSSORRY! I thought this was Darlene’s Coffee sop, I didn’t know we were in the DMVs! Hold on let me check for the illegal of BEING THE FLU!” His drawl was overwhelming and the booze on his breath was palpable. “Well Clem, it’s just, we know you are hauling ethanol and industrial chemicals on up to Truckee and, well that’s a long haul, why not give it a rest hun?” Darlene looked over her note pad and tapped her pen entreatingly. “OH OK, how about I jus never do any OF THE WORK? Oh suuuuuuuuure, everyone hey listen DARLENE will do your works and we just made in the shad-” he slipped out of the booth and knocked over a cardboard cut out of Tony Stewart. “I AM SICK OK? Just gotta get some medicine and then I can make that lil 450 mile drive and then, how abouts, this, YOU SHHHHHUT up?” he cackled to himself at the apparent clever quip that he had just crafted, much to Darlene’s chagrin. “God, when he is good he’s great but, it is just painful to see him this boozed up,” Darlene thought to herself. “Here, slice of apple pie, on the house,” she said as she slid him a piece of mediocre pie. “HOW ABOUT THE PIE HOUS-blarghhhhh!!!” Clem’s gem of insight was interrupted by his own projectile vomiting.

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Russian River Beatification, Just Settling in for a Nice Beat Sesh.

I have been seeking this beer for a long, long time. Last December, Russian River released a mere 250 bottles, and I thought all was lost, what with the cellarrape that entailed landing a Batch 3 of this beast. Anyway, here we are 12,000 bottles later and I have to give a major thanks to my buddy Baldo for making the drive and snagging this for me. One more tick off the top 100, boom roasted.

Let the Beat drop.

Russian River Brewing Company
California, United States
American Wild Ale | 5.50% ABV

A: This beer has that amazing radiant glow to it that I haven’t seen since Ithaca Brute was all up in the mix. It reminds me of when Vincent Vega opens up the briefcase. We happy. The lacing is minimal and lets you know of the aching acidity that lurks beneathe. The legs trickle up like those bubble coin games that they used to have at Taco Bell that were impossible to win. I was fat as a kid. now.

After about a year of searching, I finally got my hands on this gem. Happy beatday to me.

S: When it is cold you get a lot of the acidity, the wet hay, and the more musky elements. It reminds me of a halfway house somewhere in between Cantillon Classic and Fou Foune. The fruit is apricot, pineapple, nectarines, and kumquats, but it doesn’t go as far as a fruited lambic, it has its own hybrid style like the Blake Griffin of the wild ale world, slam dunking the fuck out of imitators.

T: This beer has two sides to it, when it is cold, it is just acid and mild funk, none of the awesome fruits or rad complexity. When it warms up, shit starts to get real and you get more of the lemon and grapefruit tartness that starts dry fucking your gumline like the dudes in that Next video “Too Close.” This beer can tell you like it. While this isn’t a “skin” or a tannin, it reminds me of a tart strawberry that you get if you buy them super early from a roadside vendor and its both tart and drying due to the lack of sugars. That’s what it is like ok, just like that.

There are some seriously oblivious people out there who cannot appreciate this gem. Or Spac.

M: This hurts my lips, tum tum, and gumline but I put up with its punishment in the way that a 16 year old guy will put up with a completely apeshit girlfriend: the implicit benefits far outweigh the acrimonious exchange. The crackly acidity is in line with that feeling you get when you try to merk an entire box of Sour Patch Kids to yourself at a movie. You are strangely content but it does a number on your insideface.

D: This is a great wild ale but, admittedly, not my favorite sour of all time. It is unquestionably the best beer that I have had from Russian River but I still prefer Duck Duck Gooze and Veritas 007 to this, which is really picking the fly shit out of the pepper when it comes to that level, but you know what I am saying. This is exceptional, but not the absolute best/pinnacle of the genre. I can only hope that this comes out more often than once every three years because I dont want to have to ration one bottle every 6 months. Life can be challenging, you know?

This isn't the most expensive beer in the world, but you should probably own Marvin Gardens or Pacific Avenue before seeking this shit out.

Narrative: “Alright Devin, please continue, what happened after Mitch deactivated the pressure cylinder on the mixing vat?” Mitch leaned back in his chair and nodded knowingly about the sickest practical joke ever. “Well, I went to clean the vats so that the next batch of Atomic Warheads wouldn’t have an off flavor and, just as I was climbing in the vat Mitch yells-” “APRIL FOOLS MOTHERPUCKER!” “Ok Mitch, let Devin give his statement, this is serious.” Devin was still shivering, hair whitened and his modest clothes eaten through with patchy holes where the acid had eaten through. “It just burned my nose, finger nail beds and I was screaming, God it was so sour but my tear ducts were so dry and I couldn’t cry out.” Mitch nodded with a self-content smile “and then I was like, ‘DONT BE SUCH A SOUR PUSS!’ and he was all like being like ‘ah help mannn’ couldn’t even take the sour.” Devin’s eurethra was badly burned in the practical joke and it pained him badly to urinate. Mitch however, did receive a 3 day suspension and was transferred to the spicy section of the factory, where he assured Corporate that no “hot shit would go down.”

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Uinta Labyrinth Black Ale, You Have To Fight a Minotaur at the End of The Bottle

Alright so let’s lay this to rest, black ale? No. Imperial porter? No. This is an imperial stout aged in rye barrels. I swear if they wrote that on the front in font size 22 they would have sold 200% more units. Everyone who stumbles across this ends up loving it and always says the same shit “BLACK ALE? I NEVER KNEW IT WOULD BE THIS GOOD!” Brewery kudos, labeling gaff, but in the end if you make an amazing product, you could call is Manticor Jizz and I would still probably drop the $15.99, just to, you know what I mean-

Infantile beer pics for the win.

Uinta Brewing Company
Utah, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 13.20% ABV

A: shiny black with a dull pallour that reflects a slight viscosity above a super black stout such as Abyss etc. Nice coffee colored head with thick lacing. The light around the glass was sucked in and not even photons could escape the lacing. This stout is a straight up entropy vacuum.

S: Black licorice notes, whisky heat on the nose, burnt coffee and oak scents, with a final sweetness that I cannot place, something akin to “dark caramel” if such a thing existed. There’s a mild anise and some leathery aspects, but a manly ass spaghetti western chocolate leather. That kinda shit.

A gigantic dark ale aged in rye barrels, Utah just introduced some serious problems to the rest of the Union.

T: Fantastic complexity, tons of bittering on the front with tomahawk hops and very herbal notes that give it an anise black licorice taste, think a shot of fernet brancha that fades into a chocolate milkshake. The coffee maltiness rounds out the body of this beer. The front explosion on the sweet taste buds is so overwhelming because the beer itself is so bitter, labyrinthian in character, your tongue cant make heads or tails as to where to go. The carbonation is moderate so the heat and chocolate oiliness is left to linger, which might be bad if the finish weren’t so pleasant.

At first when I realized this was a big black ale, my jimmies were rustled, then they were unrustled when I realized how good it was.

M: the mouthfeel has great coating, not excessive maltiness or carbonation. In fact, I feel that it was slightly flat if anything, but given the complexity of the flavor this is not a fair sleight to such an ambitious beer. Tough to push past the 2 beer mark unless you are really a fan of stouts and darkness to your beers. Most palates could handle a 5oz taster and that would be sufficient I am sure. But very tastey nonetheless and highly recommended.

D: I dont remember liking this style that much, what with Unibroue’s Terrible and Death and Taxes not leaving lasting impressions, however, this is probably the best “black ale” that I have ever had, excepting Mortification, which is very tough to find. It will likely be clositered into a niche where you use it to impress your friends who dont like beer, or relegated to the back of the cellar until Autumn begins its defoliation. This beer is certainly not welcome while one is working on his Transam or wearing cutoff jean shorts by the lake. Both activities comprise a large amount of my general lifestyle so it will be a tough one to work in.

After about 700ml of this, shit gets real and you start to wonder how you are going to get anything done in the morning. Scary realizations abound.

Narrative: Fumbling with the, is this it, my lighter? Click click, the flint strikes but only reveals more blackness. The last thing that I remember was approaching the everglades at night when I tripped over some licorice vines and, now I can’t make heads or tails as to where I am. The moon itself is obfuscated into a murky pallour behind jet black clouds, projecting a pathetic reflection. CLICK, finally the lighter strikes and I can see that my predicament is more complicated than I remembered, just darkness in each direction, an enveloping shroud that slowly seeps one of any hope of escape. Several paces later, and I feel more weathered, yet it seems I remain in my same position, more fatigued, with a lightness of the mind and body. Is this the “cave sickness” that they spoke of when I visited the mercer caverns as a boy? No, no time for that now, I have two options, continue down this murky path, ever exhausting and relentless in darkness OR lay down and succumb to the blackness. The labyrith will wait patiently for the sun to come.