You knew it would come to this. We have been slaying wales and enjoying our time in the sun, but now the time for around fucking has long since elapsed: it is time to confront the Blue Corn Moon. I am going to show you assholes how to paint with all colors of the wind in today’s review:
Coors Brewing Company
Colorado, United States
Witbier | 5.40% ABV
A: This has a hazy orange aspect to it and frothy cloud of mediocrity that dances playfully so as to say, “don’t worry, having a second kid isn’t the end of the world.” A panacea for pedestrian problems. The lacing is insubstantial but it looks the part of a summer beer, something you can drink when you are 14 years old and you can’t really fuck the world up that badly yet.
S: The smell is kinda like that girl who you always cheated off of in Algebra, standard, but forgetable. It has some light biscuit qualities, pale malt, a light orange zest, and a lil bit of coriander on the backend but I am talking like 1 molar unit. This is all irrelevant though because you will probably be drinking this out of a plastic cup with half an orange dunked in it anyway, looking out over the shitty waterpark, wondering how your life ended up this way.
T: This has a mediocre biscuit and conrbread quality with an emphasis on hackneyed wheat execution. In the realm of witbeers, this would be somewhere inbetween a Chevy Aveo and a Daewoo Lanos. It will get you to your middle management job at Golden Corral, but no one is going to be turning their heads in stern reverence of your chunk of orange sitting on the rim of your 22oz glass. It tastes like it smells with a watery wheat profile, some orange notes that seem almost synthetically added there via the beer equivalent of photoshop.
M: This is watery with some mild foamy expansive corn and biscuit maltiness. You get the traditional pale aspects and some light drying from the orange. Describing this is like using an electron microscope on a loaf of bread because extrapolating the nuances from something this simple seems to belabor the point. You have probably had this beer a million times before at Applebees, why the fuck am I even reviewing this?
D: This is exceptionally drinkable and it will be the taste you remember when you are booked for public intoxication. The type of people who drink this don’t read my site and the type of people who brew this go home from their factory jobs and watch Storage Wars, but, it IS drinkable. Water is also drinkable on a long hike, but it doesn’t have biscuits and orange rind floating around in it. This beer will get the job done at a Sugarland concert if the venerable Shocktop isn’t available. At a certain point I just look at the prospect of getting a mild buzz from this and think of the 150 calories wasted in the transaction.
Narrative: Life at the Sunkist packing line wasn’t how Jacob Killigan saw his life culminating. He was in charge of 31 people and his regional director said that his efficiency yields were exemplary. He even had various certificates printed from a bubblejet printer lining the walls of his modest cubicle evidencing how qualified his fruit harvesting efforts were. Still, he would come home at night to his Birmingham home and look at the Billy Bass on the wall and pop open a Red Stripe and wonder how it all came to this. In high school he played noseguard and people loved his S10. Oh how those slackjawed Alabamian women, so ripe with indiscretions swooned when he hit the bags. THE BAGS. He exhaled and tossed the cap across the room into his Kansas City Chiefs trashcan and turned the TV on. He took a deep sip and felt an existential crisis on an uneducated level, there had to be more out there than re-runs of Celebrity Apprentice, but what? He would toe the cusp of greatness at the Sunkist factory, until he meets a biscuit mouthed Denny’s waitress who has just started a jewelry business on Pintrest. True love.