Holy oxy green apple extravaganza, but in a musky funky masterpiece that only them Soy saucers can craft. There’s cardboard old attic yearbooks and record store sleeves, Brett L for days intensely lemon and musky Fuji Apple this turbid dusty dry mouthfeel lingers with a bitterness that is distinctively tome, but that age just cannot be replicated. Good stuff and then massive deuces due to the dregs.

Worf it

Finally Slayed this elusive ass ghost, proton pack holstered