You’ll be accepting my apology. For taking beer too seriously. So we got more hoppy upstarts coming out of the southwest with sticky resin dripping like abalone jewelry. Blue turquoise belt buckles and dream catchers abound: the beer itself is pretty legit if not a touch too sweet for my tastes. There’s a bready cornbread honey component that provides ample stage for the high alpha acid hops to strut upon. It’s the choreography that cloys. The most shows phenomenal balance and gives cut melon with Christmas wreath, but the body is too substantial and it feels like an odd dialed back TIPA. The end result is a long line drag that feels poorly tailored like JNCO jeans, or maybe this is the palate equivalent of accommodating massive pipes for those orange skin locals. Dangerously drinkable at 9% and the honey closer makes it almost like a massively hopped tripel in a way. Their decision to sell this in four pack cans means someone is gonna get a lil too aggro at the day spa and wrap a golf cart around a fake Totem. Calling it now. You only learn by not believing that the beer industry is unforgiving.