@terrapinbeerco Depth Charge, 2009 Coffee Stouts Aging As Gracefully As CBS (Stout and Network)

November 15, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Aw shit, time to alienate some 2013ers for the umpteenth time on old DDB. If you were around back when Bruery was first banging out BT, back when Dark Lord was a relevant product, back when people still used Blackberry’s and shit: you know this beer. This is an old whale from days past, 2009 Terrapin Depth charge. “What a fantastic idea, reviewing a 6.5% abv milk stout made with coffee” yes. It is a fantastic idea, about as good an idea as reviewing a vanilla stout 3 years after bottling, holleratchaBCBVS.

Midwest pour detected: 22oz into straight crystal. Decadent as a MyFreecams premium account.

Formerly brewed at Terrapin Beer Company
Style: Sweet Stout
Athens, Georgia USA
6.5% Abv

Terrapin Midnight Project Brew Two 2009. Sometime around midnight in a city nobody can agree on, the idea for Terrapin and Left Hand to brew a collaboration beer was born. Depth Charge is the second in the series of one-time releases between the two breweries. Be wary of the calm before the storm. This creamy, deeply delicious milk stout will seduce you into submission while the explosion of hand roasted gourmet espresso will blow you into next week. We Shall Drink in the breweries. We Shall Drink in the pubs, We Shall Drink the the comfort of our homes. We Shall Never Surrender.

A: This is still a beautiful lil mocha beauty out of the gates, sea biscuiting that foam all over the place. I had to be careful, using a $200 glass and all, so maybe I didn’t go as aggro on the pour as I should have. The carb is substantial and the residual malts lace the glass with sticky webbing like your keyboard after an 8th grade sick day. The thin mocha brown texture spills out like the guts of a Magic 8 Ball after you smash it on a misbehaving chlid’s forehead, but darker and inkier, deep black in execution but a shimmering lake at night pallor to it. Jason Voorhees is about to pop up out this bitch in the final 3 minutes.

Sometimes you must seek the future to understand the past. Drinking old coffee stouts is not one such time.

S: The coffee, shockingly, seems to have faded over the 4 years in captivity. There is still this pleasant residual sweetness in the waft that reminds me of a halfway house between boring ass/refreshing irish dry and a full on oatmeal stout. It isn’t quite as sweet as the framework for a milk/sweet stout would make you reach for, and this is a good thing given the fact that the coffee is no longer around to keep things in check. There’s a certain lactose aspect and a saccharine waft to it, and this faded roastiness like a lingering receipt from a strip club; memories of boners past.

T: This is exceedingly thin and sticky sweet in execution. There is an initial taste of light acidic roast that gets your hopes up, then the mochafrap team rolls in with a watery milky whip to close out your dreams. If you have ever had those thin espresso drinks from Illy, you know exactly what this tastes like. This is a light affair, you can sip it casually while being read your rights, nodding in calm repose, morning beverage in hand while they execute the search warrant. There is a lingering sweetness that is like stevia mixed with Hershey’s syrup that is actually more refreshing than it is complex, like basically any Channing Tatum movie.

“COFFEE STOUTS IMPROVE WITH AGE” “CBS IS DRINKING GREAT” “HAVE YOU HAD A 2008 KBS LATELY? MMM”

M: This is incredibly thin and washes the inside of your mouth with a limp wristed mocha sweetness and then ducks out. You can smash this and chain combo these bitches up into the 2 bomber range no problem. KKKKKKILLER COMBO straight Glacius style on the coffee mocha tip. This isn’t free trade shade grown cold brew 49th parallel shit. This is just thin, normal, espresso from a gas station in a nice part of town with a splash of smashed up kit kats mixed in, for the discerning trucker. It is good if not a bit too sweet. I get it, the coffee faded, it’s different now. We all need to move on. I will never be your ex boyfriend and this beer cant be uncoffeed ok. The past is the past, I know how he satisfied you, let’s just drink this stout and not talk about his girth.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and loses a bit on the complexity as a result. No 6.5% stout is really gonna be some Dostoyevsky affair of introspection anyway, unless its a Funky Buddha offering that has been adjuncted into the fucking ground. Should you give up massive whales for this limited/extinct beer? I don’t know, how much do you care about ticks? I gave up 5 bottles for faded ass RUSSIAN RIVER DEPURATION so maybe you aren’t asking the right fucking person. Open this up at Magic City and watch them red bottoms clack clack in Georgian opulence.

Soometimes you must revisit the past, to taste something again, FOR THE FIRST TIME

Narrative: South Dakota was not a bustling hub of progressive gourmands. The State Fair usually offered the newest innovations in deep frying and small plating, most recently deep fried Squeezits, a commodity still on the shelves in old S to the D. A bold enterprise took form in Pierre in the form of small batch single pourovers blended with Macadamia milk. The populace with tucked in flannel shirts and gun racks was not accustomed to seeing $7.00 craft coffee beverages, but the future approached them with a startling alacrity. Pierre Jieusseps cared not for the local plebs and their affinity for Monster energy drinks, his was a plan of purpose aimed at touching the rural hearts and minds of South Dakotans. “Right, but I jes want like, coffee, like, in a pot you know, not these drink made for fa-” one local resident complained as the steam gushed and the hopper tilled beans at $22.00/half pound. Pierre served the decadent 4oz beverage and read the order ticket “KOOTER! Your single press, 2 minute, slow grind, cold brew is now ready!” A sunburned man in a Godsmack t-shirt bewilderedly grabbed his tiny beverage and headed to his child custody hearing.

Southampton Black Raspberry Lambic, The coveted 5 letter acronym: SHBRL, unkillable 5 syllable

November 7, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Alright, another highly sought out 400 bottle release? Business as fucking usual on DDB. After you finish reading these reviews I expect you to go back to other beer blogs with your prolapsed ticker anoos in hand like a tiny pink sock. Everyone loses their shit over this beer, offering massive combos for it, then saying “WELL I WOULD RATHER HAVE SAINT LAMVINUS” when they can’t land it. It is as immutable as the changing of the seasons, butthurt tickers bring the color to the leaves.

New York traders usually give a fair approximation of things since they usually have to drive 6 hours to brewery releases, so what happens when there’s something actually within their state? Does it ball the fuck out with those red bottoms clacking on the Berry Pole? We shall see.

Tried to pour more but this STUPID TIRED HANDS GLASS HIT ITS SURFACE TENSION LIMIT.
Thanks a lot ONLY VOID.

Southampton Publick House
New York, United States
American Wild Ale | 6.00% ABV

A: Oh shit, not only is there bubbling jelly in your veins upon seeing that picture, but the beer itself is straight up boysenbeery [sic] magenta. File this with those other Lisa Frank beers from Crooked Stave, those banging berry tones, lookin all like a baller ass wine cooler. The foam is mild and crackles away like your bank account at a Slashfiction convention, leaving little behind but sadness. The crazy purple/fuchsia tones borderline on Robey, but don’t fucking say it.

This shit will drop bombs on other fruited sours

S: This is like walking through a Farmer’s Market holding your same-sex lover’s hand taking in the perfect wafts of berries, ripe spring bounty, and redolent with raspberry/blackberry tannins. Nana is leaving the pies to cool in the windowsill, and she used super acidic berries in case you decide to get your Gary Soto on and jack those bitches. There is a depth to this that reminds me of the Funky Buddha Berliners (“oh, those 35 bottle releases everyone got to try, thanks for the descriptor, asshole.”) If you enjoy the waft of CREME FRAICHE ROSE DE GAMBRIUS, this is the purple drank variant with a bit more black cherry and merlot tannins going on beyond just a raspberry, a nice spin on the traditional Fremboisey.

T: I started this bad bitch really cold to see if it had that classic 1 note acidity and, TO MY SURPRISE, still had quite a depth to the tannins and merlot aspects on the frontend, nice oaky produce feel to it that dries endlessly. The real boxer-dropper is when this thing warms up a bit and starts getting heavy handed with that berry, jammy, sticky icky, pie filling meet american wild acidity that is crazy satisfying. Unlike most American Wilds, which can be as one dimensional as a Florida State Communications major, this actually has a lil musk peeking through, something beyond adjunct overload or acid overkill. FUCKING BALANCE IN AN AMERICAN WILD WHAT AM I EVEN SAYING. But seriously, very well done, crushable for days and wont give you upper GI problems like Upland’s acidic extravaganza offerings. This is a vast improvement over those, admittedly very solid, offerings. It is just really fucking tasty across the spectrum, punshing you with a whip gently making you want more, you sissypalate, you like that huh, lick those berry boots, SUB.

I hope you RSVPed to the sticky berry cuddle sesh, bring your footie berry PJs

M: This has a crazy prickliness to it that crackles like fruit pebbles in acidic milk, each sip has this blasting Fanta aspect to it that isn’t exactly an expansive carbonic acid profile, it’s more like a raspberry alka seltzer that cracks and pops along the gumline, pushing that fruit waft to huffing levels. It doesn’t look like a gusher, but it just pumps that C02 in the middle where your face hole is wanting. Also, this thing can really dry your sockets out, bring liver lube like water/old ales to grease your gears. Don’t run your internal components too hard.

D: This is incredibly crushable and the only real limiting factor, other than the fact that is sells for fucking $300 on MBC is that it can be a bit drying if you take a whole bottle to your face. LOL YA RIGHT UR NEVR GONNA DO THAT. But more importantly: CAN I BE A CONDESCENDING ASSHOLE AND STATE THAT ST LAM IS BETTER IN A DISMISSIVE FASHION. Yes and no, if you like being a presumptive prick, St. Lam is equally good but not the same thing. This is something totally different and worth ticking, highly recommended.

Ticking top tier AWA with legit pours, reported: no idea what I am doing.

Narrative: Sheila and Michael had exhausted the gamut of sexually deviant practices to restart their marriage, last Tuesday’s PRODUCE-PLAY was a bit too much for Sheila. “Something about it was unsettling Michael, you know?” Sheila stated as she thumbed the rim of her latte. “What? Oh, the whole boysenberries on my perineum? That was too far? WELL EXCUSE ME I DIDNT KNOW I SIGNED UP FOR A LIFE WITH A LATTER DAY SAINT!” Michael exploded with guests onlooking. Sheila could still taste the Cabernet she gulped prior to give her courage to engage in intercourse with her face in a bowl of blackberries. “Michael, I almost asphyxiated on fruit, it was dangerous,” she added remonstratively while avoiding his glance. “Love isn’t about smashing raspberries all over my breasts. That isn’t love Michael, I think we need to go to a new therapist, one that doesn’t suggest berry sex. No more berry sex Michael.” Michael shook his head ruefully just thinking of all the wasted produce that he had already purchased. His dreams were crushed and preserved concurrently.

@hillfarmstead Double Barrel Damon, Putting Damons on my Damons Even My Damons Got Damons so you can Damon while you Damon

November 4, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

What do you get when you take regular ass world class DAMON and then pump up the jams with a SECOND FUCKING BARREL. Tickers lose their shit, that’s what.

Alright, so 50 people got these in the collected works and then….no one reviewed it. Alright a few people did, but it was conspicuously absent from review sites until the big release went down 6 weeks ago, resulting in pages upon pages of fanfare, butthurt, conspiracies, and other things attendant with beer releases these days. When the dust settled, we were left with a 189 (?) bottle, $35 release. The DoWant pulsing hard in them lower abs.

I think it is safe to say that this beer was the most sought out and anticipated beer release in the past year from Hill Farmstead, but how does it stack up to the already-stellar Damon? You can’t get more than one rock hard boner, there’s like, no such thing as a double boner. Right? Anyway, let’s get up in the guts and see if all the crestfallen tickers listening to Evanescence have reason to mourn their inability to tick this elusive beast.

Black hat, black shades, double barrel black stouts, oh behave.

Hill Farmstead Brewery
Vermont, United States
Russian Imperial Stout | ABV ?

A: This sits and languishes out of the bottle like cajoling a second grader to get ready for school. There is a certain tempestuousness to the light crackle of mocha foam that quickly subsides and sits down to eat its cocoa puffs, unconcerned with learning cursive or long division. The lacing is insubstantial likely due to the generous sheeting on the glass that lets you know that this beer did hard time in the barrel SHU, carving wood shivs, plotting revenge. I will say, I miss the coats and coats of wax like on the previous version of Damon, but if you lay this down without trying it, you probably don’t deserve this beer in the first place. The picture above might not make sense since most of the one other time I have seen a picture of this beer it has been a 50ml medical dosage, the legit pour evidences the sheer power and menacing stature that this bete noir imparts indefatigably.

There are two very pronounced aspects to this beer, I wont blame you if you can only focus on one.

S: This is easily the most complicated olfactory profile that HF has produced this side of MC2. I will attempt to pull apart these strata of eros, this is a complicated moshpit of aromas and chocolatey decadence. The first thing that stands out is a deep red wine tannic profile like an oaky merlot that is buttressed by that expensive ass 82% cacao at the register at Whole Foods. You get a light char but the affair leans more to the sweeter side of things, like a halfway house in between MC1 and MC2, more decadent than the former but not as substantial as the latter. The bourbon seems to be the relief pitcher not the closer, providing a fleeting vanilla aspect. The port seems unquestionably the dominant force in this Romulus Remus cagematch, which is great considering the premium placed on landing this over Bourbon Damon.

T: The olfactory was hard enough to convey and the cascading tastes elbowdrop off the high ropes like Summer Slam. At the outset is a red grape dryness cum de tannic tartness, but the chocolatey Pinkerton gang starts cracking heads shortly, only to be whisked away by a very light bourbon/coconut/oakiness. If you have ever listened to The Locusts and been blown away with a swift 30 second barrage of tastes, you will understand how difficult this is to convey accurately. The wine/port aspects again seem to dominate the roasty/chocolatey/bourbon aspects, but it’s more of a 70/30 co-dominance with oakiness being the underpinnings to the undulating flavors. You can’t really be doing shit else if you want to capture all the aspects of this beer because if you have this too cold or while watching Duck Dynasty, you might zone out and miss the delicate profiles that you shelled out so much to try. It’s like renting a $3,000 escort when you have the flu, save it for when you can reach full completion.

Follow your dreams: if you want a DBD, don’t give up. Keep offerings that same bottle of Huna. Just takes the right set of eyes, dream big, never hurts to ask rite

M: This is lighter than Damon and the dryness from the oak character seems to underscore this trait. This is no underattenuated/brownie batter fest, the beer has been massaged into post-menopausal refinement with that port dryness along the gumline and the bourbon wafts tossing up barricades along the bittering zones. Personally, I felt that the competition between the two elements was dissonant almost and preferred the straightforward Bourbon Damon execution in this regard, but I have a short attention span and hate nice things. I eat Kid Cuisines and subscribe to Esquire magazine.

D: Given the foregoing complexity, you take drinks faster and try to dial in what is going on but it takes a solid 5oz just to figure out what goes where. Also, this beer completely changes over the course of 10 degrees so if you like that bourbon roastiness at 55 degrees, wait until you hit low 60s and that port starts stretching its lazy Portugese legs all over your Z Gallerie couch, gurgling out that sonorous language of tannins and Cabernet exploits. It is a shame that this is offered in a small format as it really evolves in temps and in between drinks, something that may be lost on the traditional 32 person .5 oz ballers so common in modern parlance. This is a drastically different beer than Bourbon Damon, more refined, it subscribes to Dupont Registry and Cigar Afficionado and has little in common with brash Derk Lerd plebians. To some, that will be offputting. If you like an adjunct fuck fest with chiles and vanilla beans and scorching bourbon character, don’t worry: Goose Island drops their new shit this month.

Open this at a bottle share, tickers be rolling to your table like “wantapourofthisNewGlarussssss”

Narrative: It was a duplicitous life that Damonick led. By day he was Dom, a prim and proper horticulturist advising local agrarians on a litany of nuanced subjects: soil temp, nitrate fixation, turgor pressure. By night he was Nick, a decadent MDMA using throat in a local post hardcore band. He lived a relentless life and almost never slept. It was this duality that allowed him to live twice the lives that normal people would embrace. One Tuesday night Nuck skulled several bottles of Scarecrow Cab and woke up at 6am with burgundy red teeth and a searing headache, much to Dom’s chagrin. It was a rough, complicated life full of multifaceted fulfillment. Some would counsel Damonick and plead with him to give up the rough hewn night life full of debauchery and bacchanalian exploits, but to do so would be to debase Damonick into a simpler entity. It was the complexity and robust lifestyle that Damonick sought most heartily, that was one thing he couldn’t expect a one-dimensional personality to apprehend.

Voodoo Brewing Company, The K13: Suitable for Tickers grades K through 13

October 30, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

What is the 13th grade? Well it is technically that grade where you are taking City College classes part time but also working on your Ciceron certification. That way when you recommend Hop Devil, the people at Yard House will respect your opinion before they order Chelada. That grade.

First and foremost, huge thanks to Tom aka TRXXPAXXS for trxxpxxxing all over my porch with this rare gem. LYMI.

Well what do we have here? Another baller ass barleywine, business as fucking usual on DDB I guess. But wait, what if I told you it was 258 bottles, 1 per person. What if I said that there’s a string of butthurt analbeads from tickers who couldn’t land it: WHAT THEN? If that isn’t enough, IT WAS AGED IN PAPPY BARRELS = automatic instant wale. Ask Barrel Aged People’s Porter. Just kidding this is way better than that shit. So is this a King Henry destroyer? This didn’t get Rare’s sloppy seconds with pappy and it appears to go in hard. Let’s see if this is any better than those 452 KH gots, slowing fading in closets next to XXXL Northface jackets.

Such SRM, deep tones, many malts to make tastings (bourbon feels)

Voodoo Brewing Company
Pennsylvania, United States
American Barleywine | 13.00% ABV

A: I will be honest and say that this isn’t the prettiest Barleywine on the block. This is straight up American barleywine with those deep muddy mahoganies, Old Ale looking color swaps, and none of those garnet/toffee/dark amber that I like to see but, if Jack Black’s Oscar winning performance in Shallow Hal has taught me anything: go for the bigger ones, they always deliver. Carb is pretty DEEZ, nothing too insane and the whole thing is lock step with BA Behemoth and Arctic Devil. Legit company to keep, for sheeze.

There are plenty of times to skull a 13% Pappy BW solo. While dressed like Tinky Winky is not one of those times.

S: This might be one of the finest BA American barleywines I have ever had. It doesn’t go all sweet fisted with candies, but instead provides more depth from the faded ass hops with malty roast, baked/burned bread, creme brulee torched caramel, baked apples, jammy figs and of. fucking. course. Pappy. The pappy is one of the few barrels that even a weak ass Certified Beer Server could pick out of a 6 pack lineup. You get that mallow foam on your titties, edible vanilla underwear, and oaky KY lube just getting that Pavlovian palate ready and wet.

T: This is barrel forward more than Donkey Kong Country. You get toasted oak drying at the outset, faded hops in the realm of Warrior adding a base for complexity, the same toasted Werther’s original I mentioned above but the entire thing is underscore by a fantastic warmth and barrel presence from them Pappies. Sometimes tits look better in the old brassierre and when you open it up expecting magic, that Pappy bra can’t hold it together. These malty tits are fantastic and present a great interplay of booziness supported by malt and complexity from the base beer’s old hoppy resin. It isn’t exactly a barrel bomb like something in the way of Kuhnhenn BBBW or Alpine Great, but it is its own lil reeeemix that shines, poppin Molly at a barrel aged dubstep show, spilling bourbon all over underaged chicks. The uze.

Whenever I see 1oz pours of a rare barleywine it’s like WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING

M: This is admittedly hot, but in that toasty “dont be a vulva” sort of way that is compelled by Arctic Devil and the like. If the base beer didn’t have the complexity in the malt and hop profile, this might fall into a “just pretty awesome” realm like Sucaba and others. However, at higher temps this beast shines and stands out like that annoying ass drama student from a broken home. It craves your attention and seeks your approval. The finish is drying from the oak, but again, on the heels of everything else happening in this beer the dryness is a fantastic closer to the bourbon set. You want encores and shit.

D: This is not exceptionally drinkable in the sense of “hey let’s play Ni No Kuni, where did my pants go, fuck I am late for work.” This will get you swerved and it is more cerebral than some of the other offerings in this realm simply because you have at least 4 elements at play asking for your attention. The average taster will cop out and say EHHH ESS TOOO HAWWTTTT and then continue watching Storage Wars or some other bullshit. But for the rest of us, people with conviction and purpose, it is fucking amazing. I highly recommend this and it is well worth that DDG/BA Huna realm that it is trading within. Srs.

This beer will solve all kinds of problems.

Narrative: The sleek aluminum doors opened with a cascade of spinning red lights and exhaust steam from the pneumatic mechanism. Deep within the doors of the misslebay the alarm resounded its wailing call to the acamedic officials waiting below: the time for K13 had arrived. “Professor, the Angel’s Share ignition chamber has been primed, we are ready for primary,” called one lab technician while looking at a spread of blinking monitors. Professor Blanton looked through the plate glass observation window at his passion, his bete noir for almost a decade. “Blanton, they said that bourbon could not be weaponized. They said that carpet assaults of fermented spirits was a violation of the Geneva Convention. I don’t hear any of them now!” he thought to himself as the mechanized countdown began. The city of Glendale for too long knew nothing of bourbon. Its residents basked in deviant repose, enjoying clear alcohols and neglecting Kentucky exports. “TODAY THEY SHALL FEEL THE STING OF PURE BOURBON RAINING FROM ABOVE! ARM THE k13!” Blanton called to the support staff. A sheet of pure distilled energy cascaded in a vibrant amber wave over the Galleria mall.

Drink .rar Barleywines, Stunt hard.

Beer Advocate Announces Bold New Program: Beer Advocate University, Campus Curriculum Aimed at Beer Education

October 24, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

In what some are calling the greatest movement in Beer Education since the establishment of the for-profit Cicerone certification program. Beeradvocate.com founders, Jason and Todd Alstrom, announced early Wednesday morning that, they too, would be entering the world of Beer Academia.

“This is a decision that we have thought long and hard about, and with the massive exodus of some of our most prolific users, we figured now would we be the perfect time to establish a for-profit education system,” said founder, Todd Alstrom while laboriously coding on a Windows ME Pentium desktop.

Pictured above: Preemptively expelled students

The Brothers announced bold new innovations to the beer world with a full staff and curriculum, with a campus forthcoming. “We intend on obtaining the campus shortly after we finish our mobile app, sometime upwards of 2018,” noted Jason Alstrom, while pensively surveying the menu of a downtown Denver Coldstone Creamery. “One of our first moves will be to send out pre-acceptance letters to our 372,513 users. I know this sounds aggressive, but remember, at least 300,000 of these members are inactive or were dropped completely when our servers failed in January 2012. Running a full-time university surely cannot be more difficult than the strict standards we have set forth over the years at BeerAdvocate.com.”

The program is slated to begin with an 86 unit curriculum that will instruct Beer Advocate users in a wide variety of beer-related topics. Traditional day program tuition is projected to be set at $48,000.00 per year. This sum will be largely divested to the Brothers themselves and beer related trips for the faculty. “It really is a big stride for beer in general. We have always respected beer and I think this new program evidences that fact pretty well,” Todd noted while putting the final touches on the course curriculum for the 4,300 active users who still remain on Beeradvocate.com.

Proposed Campus Map, golf carts provided to avoid prolonged ambulation

The courseload consists of 3 seminar classes, each consisting of 9 hour long discussions of strictly pumpkin beers. There also are a variety of elective courses where students are encouraged to discuss hops, hop profiles, and write dissertation papers on endless combinations of “Heady versus Pliny” “Pliny versus Sculpin” “Sculpin versus Zombie Dust” and other sage topics. The history program will feature 24 hour discussion rooms to address the issue as to whether this year’s batch is, in fact, not as good as last year’s batch. The criminal justice program will focus largely on cases of porch-destruction forensics and determining who, in fact, is a bad trader.

In addition to the strict academic program, there will also be voluntary office hours held in the main lecture hall wherein a proctor will hold up a picture of a forthcoming beer and a series of students can chime in loudly whether they will or will not be purchasing said beer. “It really is a critical part of beer culture to maintain a public forum for these things, determining whether or not our students will be purchasing the next batch of Founder’s Breakfast Stout and then vocalizing it loudly. These are important things,” F2brewers noted solemnly.

For those inclined toward economics and the business side of the beer world, there will be seminars for participants to learn the economics of the beer trading world. “Our first goal in teaching economics in the beer framework was to present a total lack of transparency for all concepts” noted resident professor F2Brewers. “For example, let’s say you are unsure if you should trade Parabola, if a student gives you direction in this regard, that student will be promptly expelled,” F2brewers quipped while sketching out some Babylon 5 fan art. “We have controls in place for the first semester wherein the top 1000 scoring students will be promptly expelled and banned from the University. This is a place of learning for mature adults, not a place where someone capriciously executes unwarranted decisions.”

Picture above: hypothetical photo of two proud graduates

The student housing for the Beer Advocate University campus is shaping up to be equally compelling with a “NO PARKING ANYTIME” protocol being enforced for all students. “Todd, he loves to tow cars: students, people trapped in inclement weather, it’s kinda his thing. We figured to recreate the monastic conditions of Trappist brewing we would implement these draconian measures on our own student body,” F2Brewers noted in a particularly verbose moment.

After three years and countless hours spent discussing hop profiles and pumpkin beers, Beer Advocate University hopes to engender its students with a sense of pride and reverence for what they have accomplished. “Just think of the look in your grandfather’s eye when you tell him about the hundreds of readily available off-shelf beers that you rated with 100 words or less. There really is no word for that level of pride, to be sure,” Jason noted encouragingly.

The Alstrom Brothers will begin taking tuition payments in the forthcoming weeks and hope that the actual academic program will begin shortly thereafter, without any guarantees express or implied. “It is our school you know, no one is forcing you to go to school, if you don’t like it, just don’t go to our school. However we will keep all your written coursework as our own, obviously.”

The forthcoming academic year is shaping up to be a bubbling success at Beer Advocate University.

@revbrewchicago Straightjacket, Perfect Thing to Keep Me from Fapping to this Barleywine

October 13, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

If you are surprised that we love barleywines over at DDB, maybe you have been reading all of the weak penis hoppy reviews. Maybe you need to pay attention and stop reading Marie Claire magazine. Who knows, but irregardlessly, BA Barleywines are as dank as that oily redhair. Today’s offshelf baller does not get nearly the love that it deserves. For all the ball breaking that I give Midwest kids, this beer is consistently overlooked and even still lurks on the shelves despite being damn near better than King Henry. I said it. Ruminate on that shit 2012’ers and clean the cream out of your jeans.

Let’s get institutionalized. Alliwantedwasapepsijustonepepsi.

Cardboard box release? Excellent to keep poserpalates away, poor people, and offshelf ballers at bay.
Downside: is hoarded by dipshits in closets as a result.

Revolution Brewing Company
Illinois, United States
American Barleywine | 13.00% ABV
A strong ale to warm your insides in the dead of winter. Deep aromas and flavors of dark stone fruits, bourbon, molasses, toasted coconut and vanilla come in waves.

A: This is a malty affair but has this crispness and radiance to the center like a garnet with no clouds in them stones. The carb is like them soapy foamy carwashes where you know its for a church charity but like, seriously why is she wearing that- you know? The cling is minimal because the alcohol sheeting comes through and zambonies the glass keeping things nice and clean, no skate divets up in this mix.

Don’t worry, Goose Island Bourbon County Barleywine is coming soon. You can try and trade those for whales instead of drinking them too. Keep trying you magnificent failure.

S: This is meant to be savored in a rocking chair, telling younger generations about how when you were younger video games came on “cartridges” and it was acceptable to look down upon IT coders. This has a wonderful plum, sticky fig, pluot, that toasted american oak char to it, all ratcheted together with boozy asscheeks clapping to that 3/4 beat. Sick drops, OH HENRY bars, then closes with them mallow kisses from the alcohol waft. Get ready for complete labiachins to come out and complain about OMG so hawtttt derrr needs tieme to CHILL becase 13% needs to DRINK MORE EASIER. Get the fuck out of here. I was born into the high abv game, you merely adopted it. These are the same fucking sybian riders who open at 16.5% abv Pugachev’s and add this incredible insight that OH SHIT A BOTTLE OF BEER WITH MORE ALCOHOL THAN MALIBU RUM IS HOT. Go back to Pi Phi and leave the adults to their beverages.

T: This carries on the foregoing but really delivers harder on that sweeeeet 4 Roses aspect, with a malty middle that isn’t substantially coating but keeps the leather reins in hand enough to keep the booze in check. There’s them sticky toasted caramel notes and a finish that tastes like a well-crafted old fashioned. The whole affair is fucking fantastic, you just wanna tuck a lil dollar in that oak g string and tell SJ to keep them CLACKCLACKS coming. If you don’t know about that clack clack, you prolly a weak ass ticker not sitting at the tip bar, just showing up to tastings with FW anniversary beers like a fucking barnacle. This is fantastic, don’t share it, drink it alone, fuck everyone else all you need is BA Barleywines and ICO.

I didn’t want to review this. Now a bunch of ISOs will go up, offering Jai Alai, ruining shit for everyone.
Sorry Chadquest

M: This is surprisingly thin and serves to give the bourbon/whiskey character ample stage to sally across. This beer was meant for the stage, not the closet. The mellow carb serves to get this angry heft across, like when a beer be having them sick lats, stability malts, not aesthetic just straight functional power. This beer is not prone to injury because it protects the core with deep boozy maltiness that washes clean.

D: This is sippable in excess. You CAN put away an entire bottle of this, put on George Straight and have people just assume you are racist when they smell your breath. However, the biggest drawback is the thing that contributes so much to its power, that abv adds complexity and stern flex to what would otherwise be approachable like Sebago or Naked Evil, things in that realm of drinkability. You know when BANE pumps that green shit and gets crazy swole? This is like that, except its a completely subjective swole and you will wake up with bruises and hella handstamps wondering where you went last night. What is AMZCC ATM WITHDRAWL $500.00 anyway? One of those nights.

If you are the type of jizzdumpster who hates on Sucaba and wasn’t around when Abacus came out. Hold your Barleywine competition somewhere else, your opinion is void.

Narrative: Clay Jaspers never skipped leg day. In fact, all he ever ran was leg day. Clay’s arms had modest power, but it wasn’t about showy displays for Mr. Jaspers. His deceptive frame went unappreciated largely by his colleagues at Prism Insurance Company. During company audits he could help move box files with the stability of a deep squat and a core that co-employees could count on. No one would assume that he could run a 4.4 40, but he wasn’t a showoff. He would do file reviews with a nice bottle of Bulleit in his desk and do claim reports in a deep squat. It was that secret power that he his under those Express Chino pants, no one needs to know that he could kick a hole in the side of a county fair pumpkin. His power was his hubris, a quiet power pounding in his quads, fueled by bourbon. One time when he went out on the town, some Penn State kids got uppity and he mule-kicked one in the stomach. The communications major was hit so hard he swore that he fell off his bike that night. Legends were told of Clay Jaspers as the Betas hit their 4 foot ROOR bong, aka the Cerebro, aka Professor X’ed Out.

GREASY ITALIAN CAGEMATCH: 2006 Xyauyù Etichetta Argento (Silver) vs. 2004 Xyauyù Etichetta Rame (Copper) – Birrificio Le Baladin

October 9, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Oh shit, depressed economies, flooded landscapes, lazy romantic people, and tons of hair product are up in the mix in today’s review. So if you were sleeping on the dipset in previous DDb reviews, first of all, shame on you, and secondly, read this REVIEW OF THE ISLAY FUME XYAUYU

Alright, if you have no idea what I am talking about, let’s take this from the top for the 2013 assholes showing up late to class, posting about pumpkin beers and ruining shit for the rest of us. These are imported from Italy and usually are barrel aged for 2 years with a series of blends from different barrels. If you are a complete fuck up, you will complain that these still beers DONT HAS ENOUGH CARBS FOR ME LIKE KING HENRYS. But focus on the mouthswish and not the teethcoatings and you will be ok.

Lets get this shit going, grab the Aqua Di Gio rev up that Piaggio scooter.

CHALLENGER: $50 500ml Xyauyu Silver, comes with a book not in English words.

VERSUS

Damn sippin that 2004 Xyauyu Copper out of a sundae glass while getting oral sex on a 10 speed

Silver
Birrificio Le Baladin
Italy
English Barleywine | 13.50% ABV

COPPER
Style | ABV
English Barleywine | 12.00% ABV

A: Appropriately enough the silver is a bit darker than the copper, but neither one of these is particularly radiant or offputting for the style. As I noted above, the beer is dead flat in both instances but that is how the beer is brewed, this isn’t just some Lost Abbey WHOOPS SEDE VACANTE $35 sort of mixup. The sheeting is insane and looks like an alcoholic Windex commercial. The clear alcohol sits like an oily ring around the edges letting you know shit is about to get real and some ex-GFs will be getting some phone calls real soon. Obviously there is no cling, no lacing, no retention and if you read the reviews, dumb shits mark this beer down nonstop for for petty offenses and then give Kuhnhenn dome on the regular for unintentionally flat beers. I don’t understand the world.

Winner: Tie, same flat chested Filipino gymnast caramel alcoholism execution

Acquire expensive barleywines, put that shit in my grasp

S: The copper is a bit sweeter and more decadent than the silver, but I need to add that both of these beers are some of the most complex beers I have ever tried. The layers from copper just pile up like corkboard, straight Eros stripping away those Macedonian remains. You get caramel, roasted caramello bars, chocolate, a sort of sherry and port finish to it. The silver is more of a srs bzness man and gives vanilla, coconut, toffee, toasted macaroon, and also that brandy sort of final release. Both of these are like a geriatric gangbang with hard candy and colostomy bags cast about with careless abandon.

Winner: Silver, nana knows my sweetspot

Just because it is flat doesn’t mean that it cant be amazing

T: Both of these beers are incredibly decadent endeavors and make you feel Fancy like Reba. This is your one chance ITALY DONT LET ME DOWN. The taste transitions from a mildly fusel front to a sweeeeeet resonance in the copper that is like figs, plums, tobacco and toasted oak. The Silver is a bit more ratchet and doesn’t give you that sweetness, you have to earn its affection like a recalcitrant Mormon girl who isn’t down with under the barrel touching. There is a sort of raisinette, dessert liqueur, dates, caramel, and a toasty roast to it that seems more refined, but less fun than the wild ass Copper straight not wearing any malt panties in the barrel aged movie theater. Damn that analogy fell apart real quick.

Winner: Copper, a bit hotter but more fun, like the Powerglove, it is so BAD.

Bust out this at a tasting with that fancy box and tickers be like-

M: These have an identical mouthfeel to them. It is this incredibly thin Utopias sort of feel to it that just warms in a decadent creme brulee fashion. There isn’t any real drying to speak of and the sweetness hides that abv impeccably. You take light pulls of this and let it get full on room temp without a single fuck to spare. This is a whole different realm of beer that some glass jawed, pussy palates cannot handle. Go back to buying King Henry’s on Mybeercellar and let the CERTIFIED CICEROAONES DISCUSS NOTES WE HAVE SO MANY NOTES. But seriously, there is nothing like this beer out there with the exception of maybe a Kuhnhenn BBBW left out at room temp, but that’s more brash so it isn’t the same. There is no oxidation and the whole affair begs to be split and savored like a marathon of Police Academy films.

Winner: trick question, they are basically the same, take them both in your mouth at the same time, Vivid.com steeze.

Straight up regal italian decadence

D: Despite my gushing and rock hard maltboner for these beers, they are not exceptionally drinkable. Lezbehonest. I crush high abv monsters on the reg and then still work my second job at Golden Corral, even I cannot take one of these to the skull solo. I know you probably COULD do it, just like I DID take the Islay Fume to the skull 1v1 and wreked it like a cheeky kunt. Overall, split one of these and you are golden, otherwise, call a babysitter or buy a Wii-U. Trade for these, splurge and drop the $50, you wont regret it and you’ll secretly get barleywine emissions for years to come.

This is foreign and strange, but I secretly am aroused.

Narrative: Giuseppe and Pietro were the best of friends. Giuseppe with his cool demeanor and love of pastries was the perfect Sancho Panza to the responsible Vespa-driving Pietro. Both were sweet and full of idioms and effusive gushing lines that were doled out with careless abandon at the finest Hollywood nightclubs, supperclubs, ultralounges, and invite only social clubs. “Giuseppe! please, you have to unbutton down to the fifth button, don’t embarass us tonight,” Pietro commented as he washed the sticky Crew Fiber off of his hands and began putting on ornate chains and leather ornaments. “We have to put out most welcoming foot forward for the ladies to be of interest and to be make sex” Giuseppe epigrammatically noted and Pietro squinted in deep thought at the profoundly warming statement. “Also, we are need to be buying more Monster Muscle Milk, because energy level and fun times to be having importance,” Pietro replied with a certain lovable panache that only a boozy abrasive sweetness could pull off without sounding like a rapist.

@firestonewalker Velvet Merkin, For The Discriminating Gentleman with a Regal Pubic Wig

October 2, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Well, once again I went to the brewery to get this 3000 case “shelf” release, since California 1) never gets Firestone bottles until 2 months after release and 2) assholes buy them up and complain about Sucaba afterwards. So basically, fuck California. So I traveled to beautiful Paso Robles to snag some of these oaty drops. The population of migrant workers harvesting grapes for overpriced wineries was SURPRISINGLY UNCARING about the release of this barrel aged oatmeal stout. It is almost like being paid crippling poverty wages for the production of luxury goods DOESNT MAKE THEM APPRECIATE A GOOD BARREL AGED STOUT IN THE 101 DEGREE SUN. Weird. Anyway, let’s review this shelf turd and pick out the finest pubic replacement fur.

You guys, look at the subtle triangle on the box, you get it? Oh man. You don’t even get it.

Brewed by Firestone Walker Brewing Co.
Style: Stout
Paso Robles, California USA
8.5% abv

Label nonsense:
This is our Velvet Merlin Oatmeal Stout aged in Bourbon Barrels and it just won the 2010 and 2011 Gold medal at the GABF for barrel aged beers!!! This beer goes into the barrels as a roasty dark chocolate, coffee accented mild mannered stout and comes out transformed as a milk chocolate, smooth dark cherry, vanilla and coconut infused masterpiece. We are incredibly proud of this beer and it seems as though it was always meant to be a barrel aged brew. 100% Oak Barrel Aged

A: This is a splishy splashy watery stout affair that links arms with gentle BA stouts like BASC and Event Horizon. In fact, basically any stout from the Carolinas will know this feel. Low abv, slick washy blackness that is a deep brown at the edges, straight entry level stout game for the babypalate haters who can’t dome BCBS and then pick the kids up from school. The cling is awesome and them oats just grip the edges like that 3 year old who wont leave the grocery store because he wants Skittles or some shit. Nice carb and great retention, but it is an oatmeal stout, what were you expecting?

Go to the store and stock up on bottles

S: At large, the whole affair from top to bottom feels like “Parabola Lite” in execution. That is far from a bad thing. Don’t interpret that as disparaging in any way, it is just different. Sometimes a 13% Parabola right before a Parole Hearing is a bit much, we have all been there. This is like instead of going for the 911 turbo, you opt for the stripped down Cayman R. Both have a certain appeal, neither is deficient. You get a muted bakers chocolate, cacoa, light roast coffee, mocha frap meets bourbon but the bourbon is as soft as a feather duvet just lowering its head and letting the roasted malts do all the talking. Again the whole thing is like a gentle handjob that is pleasant, but will bring you nowhere near completion.

T: This again is like Parabola dialed back, a support class mage, low DPS, healer stout that provides support instead of going tank steeze. You get the toasty refreshing malts, I know that’s a weird dichotomy. There is a bit of vanilla and baby doses of char, in the background you can make out some oaky presence but none of those elements are really in the game in a serious way. Sometimes cornerbacks can make amazing plays, but they usually aren’t putting up crazy fantasy numbers. Then again I know shit about beer and sports, so caveat emptor.

It is all fun and games until that ABV bite kicks in, secretly.

M: This is the most fantastic part of this beer and the only part that excels in light of the masterful big brother, Parabeezus. The silky oats give this satin sheen for the mouthfeelings. It just coats and leaves a nice sheet of creaminess that isn’t quite like nitro steeze but still amazing and whipped up like yayo in that baking bowl.

D: This is also more drinkable that Parabola due to the lower abv, cleaner finish, and silky mouthfeel. However, that is kinda like saying that a Mercedes SL is more driveable than a Murcielago. Some things are worth the inconvenience. This is just a different tool for a different job. If you have clitoral friends who complain that parabola is too “boozy, hot, thick, sweet” or some other ignorant shit: show them this. This is incredible in its own right and perfectly executed in so many ways, but it just isn’t that big beast that I have come to love being manhandled by. You know like when the stout grips your wrists and you secretly love the dominance OH OK I AM THE ONLY ONE ATTRACTED TO MALT POWER FINE I GET IT.

Some things are amazing even if they don’t accomplish exactly what was intended

Narrative: “PLEASE STACY, that is my grandmother’s Faberge egg collection you just NO! NO!” Anthony could only watch in horror as his girlfriend gorged herself on whiskey and oatmeal, destroying their possessions with careless abandon. “OK NO, now you are taking things too far, do not push my Body By Jake off of the balcon- NO!” Things weren’t going so well for the couple, she drank more, ate more chocolate, drank more bourbon, and broke his things as a byproduct. What was Anthony to do? The sex was amazing and she was his special Persephone, delving each night to savor the succor of sour mash and destruction. As bad as things were, she was still gentle compared to her older sister, who would ravage his bent genitals on a nightly basis. “Please, I have all of my FINAL FANTASY SAVE GAMES ON THOSE! HOURS OF! NO!” Somehow, it all evened out, she was sweet while sober and a complete monster when unleashed, but he liked it that way, secretly. “EARTHBOUND IN THE ORIGINAL BOX! NOOOOO!”

@drugstorebrewer Ale Apothecary La Tache, If You Tell Anyone About This: I WILL FRENCH KISS YOUR FATHER

September 30, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Alright I wasn’t going to review any more Ale Apoth offerings because the last thing I need is some shitbags from the South ruining it for everyone, exploring saisons, offering up Loonz that just sit on shelves in humid markets. But fuck it, people need to know and far be it from me to attempt to deprive this brewery of hype. I already deep throated Sahalie enough to get tears in my eyes so why stop? Let’s pump that n0x on the farmhouse rage to get sick vascularity and a deep American Wild burn. Engage the core.

Invariably, some Michael Jackson/Charlie Papzian dipshit will come in here and talk about how I poured it wrong, then we all get to indian burn his tiny dick.

Brewed by The Ale Apothecary
Style: Sour/Wild Ale
Bend, Oregon USA
6% abv

A: This is in line with the rest of the Ale Apoth lineup with the golden/14k/hay/yellow crayon sort of radiance to it. Put on your black fly shades and go back to tuning your ATV if you don’t like saisons, the adults are talking. The carbonation is minimal, psyche, it is out of control and fucking obnoxious. I got this plenty cold, poured it gently, cupped the balls, rubbed coke on the tip: I DID EEVERYTHING TO KEEP IT FROM BUSTING. But let’s be honest, look at the fucking butterfly’ed cork, it was up in that mix just getting pounded from below. One strange thing is the actual TYPE of cork seemed more porous than traditional fancy bottles, maybe that was the culprit. Anyway, this gave more head than an 8th grade girl with an absentee father. Some people are into that.

Pop this ornate, rare ass bottle then get your Riker lean on and watch beer nerds lose their shit.

S: This is very much in line with the saison game that AA is dropping but with a sharper lemon/granny smith apple aspect to the nose with the muskiness dialed back, not boosting as hard in the red RPMs. There is a breadiness to it but it is more of a crisp chardonnay meet Temptation’s ex-baby mama finish. It seems refreshing but substantial, almost bigger than that 6% abv would let on. How IT FIT ALL THAT IN THEM JEANS?

T: La Tache is strange in that it doesn’t go crazy on the acidity, but it isn’t exactly a saison either. If you have had Civil Disobedience 5, then you can wag your finger and be like “wait second, where does this shit get classified?” Not quite farmhouse, but the yeast is there. Not quite American Wild Ale, the acidity is more of a gentle lemon/tangerine/riesling sort of affair that has a crazy drinkability. The brett is there like a rap battle hype man, jumping up with some earthy mushroom musk for a moment and letting the real elements get down. If you give this to some uninitiated person, whose life hasn’t been completely fucked by craft beer yet, they might think this is a “OMG PRETTY NICE ALLAGASH WHITE ITS LIKE TEH WHITE RASCEL!” and then you can stroke your neckbeard and think of all your advanced adjectives and condescend on them in some passive way. LIKE ON A WEBSITE BEHIND A COMPUTER SCREEN. But srs, the average person would be all over this shit, nips blasting. Size zero jeans getting stripped off a crossfit ass for your classy 750ml.

“No one will send me a $25 scarce beer for my BCBS or Daisy Cutter, boohoo, BASC used to be worth so much more-“
DEAL WITH IT

M: This has an issue that was present to a lesser extent in Sahalie, and majorly in Sahatie: carbonic acid. The carbonation is fucking obnoxious. It settles and when you finally can dig in past the foam and creamy farmhouse jizz all over your face, the beer practically crackles and disappears when the temp/ph change hits your mouth. It has a great pop rocks finish to it, but this bottle clearly needs to either fix its attenuation problems or needs to lay down for a while to learn how to get its Lost Abbey on. Maybe a collabo from the Flat Masters at Kuhnhenn will create that Aristotelian golden mean. Either way, it gives with one hand and takes with another, my mouth has so many feels.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable at its core, but again, it is problematic because you have to sit and wait like an asshole for the carb to subside, then it crackles up again at each sip. Prepare to burp and exude farmhouse gasses back to back, taking in that delicious peach and hay while mouth queefing. I would certainly recommend this over most, better than Sahatie, worse than Sahalie, and still fucking amazing. Dust off that tired, faded CBS and trade it to some stupid fucking 2013’er who is trying to complete a shitty top beers list and doesn’t care about taste. Win.

You open this bottle expecting a normal wild ale, BUT THERE IS A TWIST

Narrative: Kaitlynne Powers was loquacious to a fault. When she was 9, she had a Tmobile Sidekick that she broke the hinges and ground the texting buttons down to smooth nubs. “So Skylar said Braiden told Hayden that Jayden liked Aiden! I know right? Seriously, like seriously? Not even gonna lie, ok seriously, can I be honest? Not even going to lie. She can’t come in our limo to winter formal wearing some Charlotte Russe shit.” Nearly 90% of her extrapolations were filler, zero calorie gushing that served to fluff the lack of content that was forthcoming. She was a gusher and filled the room with a certain tart muskiness consisting of snarky social commentary and Kardashian perfume: but she was incredibly attractive. “So, is it just me or, it is what it is, I mean, maybe no one else has done this but, can we be serious for a minute, I need a Smart Water.” Almost every core statement was padded with a litany of foamy lack of substance. The insecurities were present, but again, when you have perfect bicuspids and an amazing body: people will put up with almost fucking anything. Jayden ended up telling Braiden that Hayden didn’t even know Skylar, and all was well.

@gooseisland Cthulhu, Srs Revue guise, not jokes time. Not ruining beer time. Srs.

September 9, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Alright, by now you have already probably seen DDB do dumbshit and ruin Cahutlow in a coovie, but I got plenty of messages asking me to actually address what the fuck this 320 bottle midwestwhale actually TASTED like. Sometimes ruining shit is not enough, people want subjective opinions to go with their free experience on DDB. Alright, so let’s just get this out of the way off the bat: this beer is awesome, but there is no way it was worth what you gave up to land it. If you enter this maltyanoos pounder with that in mind, victim complex in hand, then the healing will be so much easier.

Bootleg tome ghost repping that bootleg Parabola in the cut.

Goose Island Beer Co.
Oatmeal Stout | 10.00% ABV

First and foremost, thanks to tbadiuk and thousandfoldthought for donating this bottle for me to fucking ruin.

A: This is deep black at the center with no light permeating this bad bitch at any point. It goes hard and crushes all photons up in the chocolate malt game. The mocha foam looks like a river in Ohio, except this beer doesn’t catch on fire. The carb is on point, the lacing is phenomenal and this is beautiful and has this ebony dream sort of execution to it like a POWERFUL BOURBON STALLION YOU JUST WANT TO MOUNT AND RIDE HARD AND PUT AWAY WET. You know the feeling, your lips and thighs all raw.

Wait. Not on shelves? low bottle count? This can’t possible be from Chicago. No Magic allowed.

S: This is the halfway house between the vanilla/coconut/oak from Elijah craig but the base beer contributes this sort of 4 roses barrel treatment sweetness that is like mallowfoam and caramel. It is fucking phenomenal on the nose and exceeds Parabola in this regard. That is as hard for me to type as you can imagine. This whole fucking beer is like, alright they release the Porsche 911 and you are like “fuck, that is sick.” but then for $45,000.00 more, you can get a lil bit more horsepower and some extra badges. Yes, it is 8.5% doper than Parabola, but god damn this shit is optioned out so hard the dealer will be dancing on your grave before you pay it off. They need to toss this shit in 4 packs and stop pushing beer nerds collective faces into the 550 thread count stout sheets.

T: This has a fucking mind blowing balance between the roast, decadent coffee/chocolate sweetness, brownie batter and just barrel for days that just pounds like an Ernie Ball stingray out of that Ampeg 8×10 cab. The beats are steady knocking and the oak gives the sweetness a partner in crime that dries but leaves shit all sticky, like when you used to piss the bed, except it is a torrent of chocolate bourbon piss, like in your dreams. I got some people asking me how we did that “camera trick” when I poured a fuckload of this into a bowl, no camera trick, but I sure as fuck ALMOST regret it because this beer is just that good. When I say I am srs, i am not jk, am srs.

FT: one of 320 bottles so rare ISO: a fucking girlfriend

M: This is sticky as huna, but less substantial in those patented CCB sugars. It doesn’t roll that Three Floyd’s 1.045 FG. It doesn’t go all eating disorder thin like Eclipse. It somehow addresses the issues that I had with base BCBS (which is essentially fucking nothing) and improves upon the barrel, fusel notes, ratchets the heat down, improves that silky mouthfeel with a blast of oat, and just leaves you with a bukkake chocolate blast all over your gumline.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and just gets drained LIKE V FROM ERIC NORTHMAN TO SOOKIE STACKHOUSE AMIRITE. You want more, and it is gone and you shake a snowglobe like a complete pussy and think of stouts long past: that first sip of FBS before your life was in shambles, a yeasty shell of accomplishments. This is a great beer, but it is tough to justify the cost of entry and I am sure many a person walked with a limp after getting their tradeanooes distended, giving up top tier lambic and shit. The 312 will always w[h]in[e].

OH YOU MADE AN OATMEAL STOUT IN BA BARRELS OF BOURBON BA? FUCKIN TOUGH

Narrative: “NOBODY CHARGES ME FOR ADDITIONAL SAUCES, NO BODY.” His neck strained with rage and a sweaty brow. He used to be such a good friend and, for a few moments he was actually pretty fun, but this is not the Chad that you remember from college. “OH I AM SORRY AM I MAKING A SCENE? well guess what GOOD I DONT NEED TO BE EATING HERE BRO I JUST WANTED SOME GOD DAMN RANCH FOR THESE STRIPS. I DONT. LIKE. DRY. STRIPS!!!” The smell of chocolate and bourbon hung in the air. It takes so much just to even meet up with this guy. You hang your head sulking, oh great, a co-worker happens to come into this Denny’s? It used to be such a good time with Chad, going to ball games, kicking back a few brews, now he is misquoting the Da Vinci code and hitting on the receptionist from your office. “YEAH SO THATS WHY THEY CALL IT A JET BOAT, I am sorry, too much for you? Too much speed? Or you just dont know nothing about boats? Don’t touch me bro, I am hollering at this girl, OH IM SORRY, SORRY FOR BEING SO EMBARASSING YOU, CAPTAIN NO SEX WITH HAYLEY SINCE 5 MONTHS AGO. “We should do this more often, check please.” You would only meet once, but that was a powerful bourbon soaked endeavor.

dontdrinkbeer

Drinking beer, so you don't have to.

Category Archives: barrel aged