Got me bugging like Gregor Samsa, I’m like damn bruh

  
“Hi when I saw a maladjusted middle aged man on tinder who collects sugar water and predicates his self esteem on stagnant ethanol, let’s just say these lane Bryant sweatpants were soaked. Hit me in the DM so I know where to send this Beerplanet screen print tee, our first date will be magical.”

  
At least now the public will know I am a beer snob. Proficiency in any field is best demonstrated with Bubba Gump tier screen printed apparel.

http://www.businessinsider.com/most-overrated-beer-brands-in-america-2016-1
I don’t even know what the angle is here. At a certain point when beer writing gets so shitty I can’t tell if it’s a bad AdverTorial, trolling, intentional misinformation, or outright satire. Not only does this article fail to even tell you specifically what is overrated but its solutions are somehow even more opaque. Did I honestly just read that Fat Tire is the solution to overrated beers? Is someone nonironically telling me to drink ESBs instead of IPAs? I want in on the bit.

We are all dumber for having read this shit, I award businessinsider zero points and may God have mercy on their soul.

So apparently Inbev is allegedly giving pushback against people using the superlative “infected” when describing their clearly infected bottles of bourbon county coffee, and bourbon county barleywine.  Well, that is according to the inimitable MIDWESTBEERBLOG, which I am sure is already all of your homepages and #1 source of beer news.

Check this shit out:

This blog is claiming InBev contacted him directly and told him that he shouldn’t call BCBCS “infected”

I was like wutttttt, inbev never comes and touches middles with old DDB.

According to the site:
“UPDATE: Megan Lagesse, communications manager for Anheuser-Busch InBev’s craft beer division, reached out to me Friday afternoon to clarify that the beers are not infected, which is the word I used to desribe the beers in a previous post.

“The beer is not infected,” she wrote in an email. “Infected would imply a bacteria problem or cause for safety concern.”

To be clear, when I used the word infected it was not meant to imply that the beer was contaminated by some deadly bacteria. Instead, I was using the word infected in the way it is commonly used in the beer world. That is to say, the off flavor was possibly caused by a wild yeast or bacteria that made it’s way into the beer without the brewer’s intention of it being there.”

U guize better not say that the beer is INFECTED, that’s straight up defamation per se alleging bad business practices and they’ll suffer srs losses n damages. THEY GET TO SKIP DUTY AND BREACH IF U SAY THAT. ur fukd.

Right. Because every time a brewer discusses an infected beer, everyone runs for hazmat suits and diflucan.  I drank Hellshire II, I survived.  I pooped some blood but hey, I have also lived through Small Animal Big Machine, NBD.

So then I was like WAIT A SECOND it must be that midwestbeerblog is more RELEVANT than DDB, so I went to Alexa to check the reach of this journalistic titan:

MIDWESTBEERBLOG.COM

Global Rank

18,725,849

Global Rank

955,217

I have had to field questions about this opener left and right:

It’s a 100%% AMERICAN .50cal bullet fashioned into a bottle opener.  No, I am not selling them. You can go here and fucking buy one yourself, no DDB interloping needed.

The engraving is free so you can make it say “testiculus” or “autoeroticasphyxiation” or “Fund Planned Parenthood” or whatever you want.

HOT REVIEW:

The good: it’s a fucking bottle opener. It opens bottles. If it fails at that, then back to the drawing board.  It comes in a lil crown royal sack so your husky manchild associates will get worked up when you unsheathe it, rolling them folds back over the casing slowly.

the bad: probably cant take this shit on like airplanes? It’s heavy and things could get out of hand in the bedroom.  The lip on the opener is too fucking small for waxed bottles. But a bullet with a bayonet on it seems pretty fucking overboard.

Sure there are other companies that might make these, but only Lucky Shot USA sent me this one for free, so go buy one. OH wait WARNING OSTENSIBLY SPONSORED CONTENT. like you give a shit.

  
Alright so let’s say the ideal of this style lies somewhere in between Avril and side project saison du pays. Let’s say you have some acidic outliers in the degarde realm and some other undesirables with flabby bodies from other fly over states.

This is the tip of the spear, a prism of those characteristics, excelling at none of those shortcomings, but also have no clear faults either. 

The good: exceptionally clean and perfectly dialed in, carbonated Gatorade, salinity and lemon rind like a flawless farmosa

The meh: spritzer pelligrino nose, lacking complexity or depth, no real esters, safe execution

The bad: watery body, exceptionally riparian closer, lacking the creamy depth or world class iterations 

Overall verdict: fuck yeah, drink this. If you love the degarde Petite XXXXX line, then hammer this. Don’t expect some Jester King revelation, but FFS, this shines in a genre where it is easy to fly under the radar and just hit the mediocre benchmarks.

 
Mo den ight 

  
Hnnnggg. This beer and this album.

SO there’s this bar in Litchfield Arizona called GROUND CONTROL, (not to be confused with the Portland barcade of the same name) and from what I gather, those assholes do everything: food, coffee roasting, gelato, brewing, video games, fundrasisers, wine tastings. They basically go apeshit.

One such beer they serve is Candy Bar stout made by Fate in Scottsdale.  This is essentially all the beetus delights and sticky sweet fun of massive sugar bombs, but in a ratched back “fun size.” This 5.8% milk stout is brewed with cocoa nibs, vanilla bean, sea salt and honey roasted peanuts. At the outset it sounds like if Great Lakes and Shorts teamed up to make a clean, albeit insane concoction.  For that consumer who wants Snickers up in his nonic, just not the king size.  WE HAVE ALL BEEN THERE.

The look is like a robust porter, slick, limited sheeting, silky carb, no sheeting to speak of, and legs thinner than Taylor Swift. In honesty, for all of those additives, that’s pretty remarkable. The nose puts forth nougat bombs with vanilla being the star here, kit kats and dark chocolate.  I mean, they accomplished what they set out to do, it smells like you took an Edmund Fitzgerald and randalled it through your kid’s plastic trick or treating pumpkin: Mission accomplished?

The taste is rail thin like those back desert Arizona tweakers, except this beer wont steal the battery out of your car. The peanut contributes a touch of oiliness to the mouthfeel but the water profile seems harder than force awakens boners when Daisy Ridley hits the screen.  It is crushable with a little confectionary sidecar tacked on.  Imagine if you took Black Butte porter and had braces and smoked a bunch of milk duds first.  You just had the FATE experience.

It wasn’t bad, but Fate didn’t change my life either.  I haven’t even been to Arizona, but that’s because I don’t own any firearms that need protecting and I realize that Mad Max is just a film and not a reality worth seeking out.

I haven’t had any Arizona Wilderness beers in so long, inner thighs are throbbing, dying to eat Gilbert’s grape.