Finally DDB is getting back down to business and reviewing old ass beers, walez, Mr. International fedex player with a passport. In today’s review we review a 22 year old musky banger from across the pond. When this beer was brewed, you probably were like 6 years old, pre-pog phase, maybe you were starting to get hella into Nirvana and mainlining heroin, who am I to judge? Bust out those Anchor Blue jeans for this barely legal review.
De Neve Gueuze
A: Straight out of the gates, this asshole gets all AARP on you and slowly and gently lays itself into the glass like a warm easy chair for some episodes of Matlock. It has this turbid aspect that gives off this dull brown aspect with dark yellowing at the edges like costume jewelry that your nana loves to wear in the bath. The carbonation is there, but just barely, also like your nana.
S: This has a beautiful acidic lactic profile but it is covered on cobwebs, horse barn musk, I get a bunch of orange/tamarindo aspects but again, the old paper meets sex attic is overwhelming. This isn’t as musky as OLD ASS BRABANTIAE but it is a page out of that same playbook. Some people search 50+ on Zoosk, some people like this kinda shit, get your shine on.
T: This follow through with a big acidic and lactic profile, no signs of offputting oxidation which is shocking, all things considered. There is a melon wrapped in cardboard aspect to this, and I don’t know if seeking out a 1991 gueuze and saying “past its prime” even makes any fucking sense because, you ordered the sex swing, you mounted it, now you are mad because people are judging you? This is truly original and makes me wonder what the fresh version tasted like, because the brett and musk aspects have taken to dominate this beer, like in Back to the Future II when Biff takes over. Maybe you like musk and old comic books covered in juice. Papercut your dickhole. See if I care.
M: This is both dry, thin, and yet expansive and vaporous due to the musk and funk that this beer presents. Again, this is like going to antique stores or running your hands over a bunch of polyester clothes in a thrift store. It is awesome and novel but feels a little dirty. You come home with some stupid tin signs and are edified as a result.
D: This is exceptionally drinkable and I could put away a 750ml and not even share like a complete asshole. However, with full disclosure, it was either this beer or the 2 orders of XXL Nachos that I ate, but I got massive deuces. Some could say that the records were subpoenaed, even. This will tear up your guts like Peter North. Listen for it. That is the sound of my readers googling Peter North, now that is the sound of HR calling them into the conference room.
Narrative: Clarence Masterson had seen quite a few things in his day. It wasn’t just that he was old, God knows he was, however in 1991 he got on a spaceship with Fred Savage. Most people know this autobiographical documentary as Flight of the Navigator, however, the unsung song of 11 year old Clarence is often overlooked. Clarence was a stowaway on the ship long after Fred Savage left. His body was accelerating faster than light, aging, yet in perpetual stasis. After a respite in the cosmos, Clarence landed in the distant year 2013, to find a world changed drastically. First and foremost, he was 33 year old at this point, yet still looked exactly like a 13 yar old boy. His urged to tax both young and old poon were unacceptable. He was an anomaly in a world of fast paced communication. Clarence was too old for the ear flicking hijinks of 7th grade, yet unable to pick up lot lizards at local bars. He read about a Youtube dwarf who experienced a similar problem, but even that was not the same. He longed to discuss Keynesian economics, but didn’t even have pubes. He was old and young at the same time, the tip of Zeno’s paradox perpetually cleaving his reality, forever alone and soured as a result.