Man, saison marathon ends, then I post a couple 5/5 stellar video beer reviews over the weekend and the site becomes a hotbed for controversy. Let’s get things back on track in today’s review of 3F Framboos, AKA THE BIG BOO, aka the BOOZER, slaying white walez on the reg. On another note, since this was brewed again, it is now in some top 100 lists, so there is also that. Poppopopop watcing sea mammals drop.

If you are too busy and cant fit time in to eat fruit AND drink beer, 2 birds, 1 stone.

Brouwerij Drie Fonteinen
Belgium
Lambic – Fruit | 5.00% ABV

A: Look at that juicy lil wine cooler, posted up looking like a Lisa Frank binder with all the fuchsia foam and pink hues. Make me want to put tassles on my lil ladybike and stroll with a carnation in my hair. The lacing is minimal and the carbonation was as to be expect, namely cray. The whole affair is legit and even Chief Keef would agree that ladies love 1) Sosa and 2) rare raspberry lambics.

The things you have to go through to get this beer, painful, horrible things.

S: This is hands down the best part of this beer, it smells like freshly unrolled fruit by the foot, the inside goo within Gushers, a spring pastoral farmers market, sweet honeysuckle, hyacinth, and smashed ass raspberries. If you cant taste this beer, trade for an empty bottle and you just won half of the game AND KEPT YOUR ANUS AT ITS CURRENT DIAMETER.

T: This is fantastically refreshing and opens with a juicy profile and dry tannic raspberry skins, the puckering aspects have a great interplay with the lactic acidity from the base beer and the lingering produce meets tartness is just the refreshing beverage that you need after enrolling your kids in military school or pushing your stepmom down a flight of stairs, you know, supes refreeesh.

This sounds like an excellent idea.

M: This is drying but not like chardonnay aspects, more of a “I just ate way too many dried fruits” sort of manner. You get this acidity but those elements are kept in check by a sweet profile from the fresh juice; sweet yet hateful like a Korean housewife.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and the fruit profile quells all that guilt in your heart because you can tell yourself that it TECHNICALLY is fruit and you TECHNICALLY don’t need to go to those Court ordered AA classes, because TECHNICALLY you are a beer connoisseur and TECHNICALLY it isn’t alcoholism if you spent a lot on the bottle and call it a hobby. But srs, this is a legit beer, the only problem is that raspberry is one of the comparably “easier” styles to execute with similar results. This is unquestionably one of the best framboise that I have ever had, but at the same time Framboise de Amarosa is also very good and I would make a coherent argument that FFaC and Rose de Gambrius could toe precariously close to these levels. It just depends on if you are that type of asshole who rolls up in an Aventador and looks down upon the dude in a Gallardo. fruitbullwalez.

This is a baller ass beer for tickers with elevators up in their crib.

Narrative: The brakes of the Nissan Altima locked up and the affordable yet spacious sedan slid through the pink muck into a Mitsubishi Gallant, an equally spacious albeit less reliable midsized sedan. “What in the, COME ON!” Judy Temperton exclaimed and she got out of her car. Her white Keds slipped on the uneven goop and the air was redolent with raspberry juice. The entire I-85 was littered with crates and crates of fresh raspberries, each broken open and mangled into a deep ruby paste on the road. Red asphalt, indeed. Maria Krupky jumped out of her car and surveyed the damage. Both parties had incredibly high deductibles and, what GEICO representative would take pity on a raspberry induced accident. The two women shook their heads balefully and walked to the front of the overturned fruit truck. The smell of diesel fuel and fresh fruit almost choked them in turn. Just past the truck the women would see the cause of the accident: a completely murdered out flat black Bentley Arnage spun headfirst into a ditch. A middle aged man in a Tommy Bahama shirt was clutching frantically at his iPhone 5S with the unlimited data plan. The pangs of the idle rich made all too apparent. His bluetooth fell into a puddle of raspberry juice and he sobbed quietly, the juice mixing into his open cuts. If anything, it was hard to pity something so opulent in appointment, the teeming thirsty masses would never know that life. No, the Diamantes and Altimas would content themselves with car accidents and the taste of regular raspberries, as is the way of things.