Cantillon one offs, just another Wednesday in this website, which is basically the perineum of the beer world. So let’s get tainted in today’s review. I remember someone told me the deal with this beer, something about a beer to celebrate someone’s daughter and special cognac barrels or something, but you don’t give a shit about that. You came for the labia jokes, and stay for the dick pix. Who am I to disappoint:

Brasserie Cantillon
Belgium
Gueuze | 5.00% ABV

A: This is a standard affair for an oldish gueuze, it has a hazy orange construction paper/sawdust sorta aspect going on. The lacing was insubstantial and the carbonation wasn’t really that intense either. I guess you don’t go to gueuzes for their pretty looks, they are the battered, old barrel aged bretheren of the sour world, mistreated mistresses always not pressing charges, making up excuses for the carbonation and bugs therein.

S: I was really looking for something to hang my hat on to point to in an attempt to differentiate this from other baller ass gueuzes. Personally, I think this is kinda a standard execution, just polished up a bit, you get the dead bodies of the pellicle forward in a musky sponge dipped in orange juice, lemon rind, straw, some light attic aspects, but not the insulation/pink shit, like the creaky wood. I have some creaky wood fo- (PENIS JOKE LIMIT EXCEEDED.DLL_err0r)

T: This is lactic as the day in Morris Illinois is long. Ask Alewatcher, he will tell you, long ass days there. You get some white grape but the really hard ripe ones that pucker your face, some muscat grape, super small not ready yet apricots that make you deuce during Swim PE, oak, and a touch of the sweetness from cognac. This is pretty similar to Oude Gueuze Vintage from 3F, but with a lil bit more musk and funk mellowed out with a light caramel sweetness from the cognac. Maybe it doesn’t, train a Black Chocobo, get kings of the round, fuck if I know.

M: This is as dry as the discussions at Coachella and you don’t even have to listen to shitty Animal Collective to enjoy it. You get the crisp apple skin dryness that isn’t exactly acidity but it imparts this kind of lip smacking goodness. You know how old men always have that white stuff at the corners of their mouth and have to lick like 5 times to soak their mouths, it is like that, except you can’t buy this with your AARP card and you won’t be able to get away with saying borderline racist shit either.

D: This is pretty gentle and drinkable and I feel that the light sweetness is a nice touch to what is already a world class gueuze. I probably wouldnt/cant/impossible to get this again, so pressing my love handles against the glass and showing off makes this beer seem a bit underwhelming in retrospect, but that is relative to other massive walez on the infamous list. Seek it out for sheez, but don’t go turning tricks on Craigs List for it, the therapy will cost way moar.

Narrative: “Well boys, it is finally over, we did it,” Cabbage declared with a succinct statement, wiping a tiny tear of victory from his fur. He was a sweet Sea Otter who could be found regularly scampering through oak pieces or gripping tensely onto some driftwood, but tonight he was a leader. “The federal government tried to relocate us, put us otters in coastal habitats, I say YOU GO LIVE IN A COASTAL HABITAT SENATOR” he boomed to a group of sweet and outright adorable otters slowly turning in the tide. One otter banged a rock on an abelone to bring the meeting to order. “BUT WE ARE NOT DONE YET,” Cabbage splashed some water defiantly into the air, “OUR NEXT GOAL will be to spread our culture up the mouth of the Mississippi to reach the tolerant southern states and spread our culture of adorability to states that are inherently depressing!” The crowd clamored, unaware that Southern trappers had almost no regard for cute animals and amongst the worst public schools in the western hemisphere.