FINALLY: The Christian Argument to [DONT] Drink Beer

January 7, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

I am sure both of the DDB readers saw the recent EARTH SHATTERING EXPOSE on Christians and beer drinking. If you somehow missed it, like you were in detox after new years, or your Yu Gi Oh tournament got way fucking out of hand, HERE IT IS:

http://www.nathanrouse.org/2014/01/01/a-caution-for-every-christian-that-drinks-alcohol/

You wake up thinking you are going to have a fun new year, post some pics of your ribald good times of you and your escort friends drinking: OH WAIT YOU ARE AN ENABLING ASSHOLE. I have just one question for you labiamouthed heathens, when you posted that picture of Fantome Pomplemousse, did you have any idea you were being a cruel temptress to all those people who have no idea what the fuck Pomplemousse is? Well you are, and your esoteric beers make our lives HARDER.

Every time you post a photo of a barleywine, a brewer stomps on a baby hedgehog. Post wisely.

“The often overlooked sin that is rearing its ugly head are Christians displaying their love and consumption of alcohol to those around them in public and on social media, when there are many around them that struggle with this temptation and addiction.”

I bet your insensitive ass didn’t give two fucks about your alcoholic friends who would deeply pine over that picture of Selectie C, despite the fact that they have no fucking clue what it is. Esoteric beer drinkers are enablers and a scourge upon social media. I can’t tell you how many times I have seen someone open a 2005 Gratitude and suffer cascading relapses. Your rare beers are ruining the lives of others, you selfish prick.

“We sin against other Christians and “wound their conscience” (as well as sin against Christ) when we openly act in a way that would cause them to stumble.”

You thought you were being showy with your disgusting bottle of Moscatal Dark Lord, but you didn’t know you were wounding tens of tens of souls. While we are on the subject, why did you invite your new girlfriend to our tasting dressed like that. Like seriously, was that a BEBE dress? I haven’t seen a size 3 girl in months and you have to bring her around the rest of us 18-minute-milers and lead us into temptation. I have news for you though, I will never cheat on my Zoosk girlfriend or my secondlife wife. They don’t know about one another. I WILL PREVAIL DESPITE YOUR BEER TEMPTATION AND SOME GIRL WHO WASHES HER HAIR.

Please enjoy your barrel aged stouts in silent, unposted shame. Think of the children.

“Now, before you say you only do this with others that are like-minded or with your spouse, let me ask the following questions:

Do you highlight or joke about your drinking in person or on social media (posting pictures of your margarita, wine or bottles of beer)?”

We have all seen your albums and albums of alcoholic beverages, those half ounce pours of Dave, those casual afterbrunch Mimosas made with ’99 Bellevue Lambic: THEY HURT THE MOST. As my readers are aware, I have championed not drinking beer for years. I have ever kept a comprehensive gallery of beers to avoid so that people can identify a Kaggen! if they see one and be like “wait hang on, that’s not Kombucha, I am not drinking that shit.” Despite my efforts, they are groups on the internet that still oppress those subject to the lashes of temptation. It doesn’t help that you post pictures of succulent reubens when you I AM ON A LOW SODIUM DIET SO THAT I CAN GET BACK TO MY BOWLING LEAGUE. I don’t need to see thick cut sauerkraut just nestled on cascading folds of salty corned beef, you insensitive foreskin rimmer.

If you want to publicize your beer life, you should have a private website, something with an account, and a circle of likeminded friends. I for one don’t need to see your tawdry filth, Framboos cascading over erect nipples, or whatever the photos look like. I don’t look at that kind of stuff. I come home from a hard day of work, deeply inhale in my hairdoll collection and watch Super Fun Night like a decent person. I don’t need top tier lambics to have a good time.

You can't begin to understand other people's dark temptations. Please refrain posting anything, starting with beer.

You can’t begin to understand other people’s dark temptations. Please refrain from posting anything, starting with beer.

“Do you drink in public when there’s a good chance you might meet someone struggling with alcohol?”

You probably do. Just being forthright with your good times, pressing your dick against the deli glass in the grocery store with careless impropriety. Listen, it’s not that hard. If you engage in anything that might tempt someone else, do it alone in secrecy, or not at all; don’t go drenching those chiseled abs in Wooden Hell. No one wants to see that, in fact if you just want to send those directly to my inbox for proper disposal I will make sure no one is hurt by your tawdry filth.

I will close with this truth:

“I love you and I don’t want anything to dim the light that’s shining in and through you.”

I drink these shitty beers for you, every single Truffle Abduction variant, for you. I get rid of these obscure mid-2000s saisons to protect you. I don’t want your light to be dimmed by walez.

You Are Not a Brewer, You Are a Panhandler with a Kickstarter Account.

January 2, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

Here’s a general business tip to anyone looking to start a mediocre brewery in 2014: if the initial funding for your shitty project involves shaking an alms cup on the internet, your beers will probably taste like afterbirth. Consumers are dumb, beer drinkers are even dumber. Dipshits regularly pay hundreds of dollars for bottles of beer that have marginally worse analogs available off the shelf. Remember when I reviewed fucking Depuration? that should be proof enough that the craft beer world is full of cockstains without mountains of disposable income.

One thing about beer nerds though, they have excellently calibrated bullshit detectors. You may beguile them into paying $250.00 for a Reserve Society that promises 2 glasses and a plaque, but even the sloppiest mantits will not pony up money FOR BEER THAT DOESN’T EVEN FUCKING EXIST. Recently there have been ropes and ropes of precum turned out by “brewers” who promise eternal anal massages for pennies on the dollar and forthcoming ambrosial treats. If you saw one of these people on the street they would look like this:

Future master brewer at work

Most of these smegma projects are two assholes with a 10 gal setup who have drank enough of their own shitty red ales to decide that they are now professional brewers. Wanking it in a garage every other Sunday doesn’t make you a professional, no one sees me putting up a Kickstarter to fund my Daredorm account. Most of the time the Kickstarter makes oblique promises that range from “one wish” to “potentially nothing.” Let’s say you had a raging hard cock to make sure Oregon City got some janky irish ales, DON’T YOU FECKING WORRY:

That’s right, for $500, you can DESIGN A BEER THAT MAY LIVE ON FOREVER (if all the permits and equipment and tap licenses and zoning permits and municipal compliance papers and merchandising rights are locked down: FOREVER.) Chances are, if you are letting random fucking people stumble in and start designing recipes, your shit is likely going to make Short’s Brewing look like a purist domain.

How about this, do you have fucking Alzheimers? Are you totally incapable of finding a bottle opener but need to get drunk to forget about that one night in Cinncinnati? OH SHIT AN APPLBEES MUG WITH AN OPENER BUILT INTO IT:

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/591192052/open-brew-beer-never-search-for-a-bottle-opener-ag?ref=live

Next time when you wanna sip Framboos out of a clunky shitty plastic mug, YOU WONT NEED TO FIND ANYTHING TO GET THE CORK OU- oh. Shit. This technically isn’t from brewers, but I am sure it will make any virgin/Steelers fan happy.

If you donate $10,000 to my horrible anuswater startup you will receive one baby Pangolin.

Perhaps you want to see Colorado’s struggling beer scene finally get the legs that it so desperately needs. Maybe you read Jurassic Park one too many times and now draw erotic dinosaur fan fiction. Well these guys at Fossil Brewing have you covered:

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1368342567/fossil-brewing-company?ref=live

If you donate $1,000.00 to them you get…TO NAME THEIR FERMENTER. I am not shitting you up the dick, you will ascend to a God-like level and be able to his the ultimate apotheosis in naming a huge aluminum cylinder. The woman that works at Chik-Fil-A has 5 dildos, each with a different name. For way less money you can name her next marital aid and feel good about helping people under the poverty line.

I was just gonna waste hundred of dollars on heroin this year but then I saw this dude IS GONNA MAKE BROWN ALES HOLY FUCK

I was just gonna waste hundred of dollars on heroin this year but then I saw this dude IS GONNA MAKE TRADITIONAL BROWN ALES HOLY FUCK

Maybe you didn’t read about it in the news but Phoenix is in a state of complete national emergency THERE IS NOWHERE TO PURCHASE A QUALITY CZECH LAGER. Co-eds from Tempe have been bussing in and sucking cocks just to land precious bottles of that rare libation. Have no fear, these guys are here to save the fucking day:

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1359827264/dubina-brewing-co?ref=search

You may be thinking “wait, what qualifies these guys to take upwards of a G from me?” Uh well, a little something called “AWARDS” maybe youve heard of them? Unnamed awards from PLACES. Also, “[the brewer] showed up to a local Oktoberfest with a cinnamon sourdough concoction. His kegs were dry long before those of the local breweries surrounding him. People asked “Sourdough and cinnamon? Why?” His answer was simple: “Because I can.” It is with this tenacious “Because I can.” mentality that he approaches each and every brew.” BECAUSE IT IS ARIZONA SO FUCK YOU.

WAIT FUCK HOW MANY LOGO PINT GLASSES FOR YOUR IMAGINARY COMPANY DO I GET HANG ON I NEED TO SEE IF I CAN LIQUIDATE MY 401K REALLY QUICK

In summation, if you don’t have a legitimate business plan, real backers, financial acumen, a tested product, a consumer base that actually gives a fuck, unique beers that don’t rely on shitty adjuncts, and a proven track record beyond praise from your alcoholic/child molester uncle: you probably shouldn’t be opening a brewery. Get back to selling oranges by the freeway and dreaming of your TRIPEL ORANGE CREAM DREAMSICLE WITBIER AGED IN GRAND MARNIER BARRELS AND HONDURAN TEARS.

Post your favorite shitty kickstarter in the comments section.

InBev Shattering Buttholes: YOU CAN’T HANDLE THIS 25oz EXTRA OUNCE CAN

December 12, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Time to bust out the berber carpet underwear and rub your dickhole raw, InBEV IS NOW MAKING 25 OUNCE CANS:

SCIENCE BITCH: check out the fucking ICE COLD EASY INDICATOR. Now you know when your bomber+ is COLD ENUFF.

SCIENCE BITCH: check out the fucking ICE COLD EASY INDICATOR. Now you know when your bomber+ is cold enough to press to your child’s forehead after a savage beating.

I can’t tell you how many times I have been huddled around a Detroit trashcan fire under an overpass and the topic of tallboys comes up. Reggie “Scabies” Washington once sagely noted that the 24oz can was anomalously saddled in between a bomber and a 750ml bottle and we all nodded intently. Well InBev has decided to directly address this issue with AN EXTRA OUNCE. If your wife isn’t listening and wont stop nagging you during Duck Dynasty, that extra ounce will give you the extra courage you need to go silently sit in your cold garage and watch Dale Jr. highlight footage on a VHS tape.

With that extra drop of crisp drippings from rusted undercarriage, you can truly appreciate the nuances of beer “as clear and bright as mountain air.”

Not sure how to break it to the neighbors that you are a registered sex offender? Carve this pumpkin and sit on the porch with your 25oz can, they will figure it out.

The common objection to this bold marketing move is “why not just 40’s?” The point is well taken and, once Busch figures out a 40 ounce can, you too will be the envy of the Child Protective Services counselling room when you bust open your tiny barrel of succor. Think of the applications, how many times have you gotten to that lukewarm, bitter drop of urethral runoff and thought “just when I had reached my immersion point of cornwater lager, now it is gone like a brief adjunct candle.” Fear not, the good times keep rolling for almost two whole extra sips.

Think about what you can do with two extra sips:
– a gaff take where you spit it out when someone tells a racist joke
– honor your fallen homie who died attempting to jump a snowmobile
– demonstrate to your child’s mother that you aren’t an alcoholic by dumping those last precious drops
– toss it in the face of some liberal complaining about your trophy buck festering on the lawn because hey, you’ll get around to cleaning it, how is that his business anyway?

Hot on the heels of shit that was interesting to 7th graders in 1998, Bud’s crack marketing team can do no wrong!

If your palate isn’t nuanced enough to pick out the opiates in escort urine, fear not, this “1 Extra Ounce” sized can will be coming for Budweiser, Bud Light, Rolling Rock, Busch Light, Natural Light, Michelob Ultra & Natty Daddy, Busch Ice, Bud Light Lime Straw-Ber-Rita, Lime-A-Rita & Bud Ice and others as well.

I can sit here all day and try and cajole you into letting Adolphus Busch fart in your mouth, or I can just let them sell you this modern marvel:

“It’s more than just a new can or some new packaging innovation. And it’s definitely more than just one more ounce of beer. It’s our way of saying “Thank You” to all the loyal Budweiser drinkers who reach for the King more than any other beer.” SOURCE: http://www.budweiser.com/en/us/content/king-of-beers/article/the-new-25-oz-budweiser-can

The best way to encourage moderation, is that extra ounce. No single innovation has done more for the beer community, past or present. DDB would like to extend a huge NO THANKS to breweries who insist on using labia clapping 750ml bottles. I want a beer, not some sorority party where we all hit one another with goose down pillows jumping on a bed and you can’t even really tell if we are legal in the first place, you know? The last time I brought a fancy big glass bottle somewhere, everyone at the wake acted like I was acting in poor taste: so fuck you craft brewers, thanks for no extra ounces.

@3Floyds Alpha Kong, Most Tickers are Beta on that Diddy Level, Time to Go Straight Alpha

December 10, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

What were you doing in 2007? Probably looking at specs for the first iPhone, optimizing your shitty MySpace page, maybe pressing CDR copies for your generic post-hardcore band that you forced your friends to listen to. Meanwhile, this bottle was waiting, waiting for you to stop being a complete pussy. By most accounts, this bottle is extinct. It is reviews like this that alienate the fuck out of my casual readerbase and ensure that they stay fuck away and let the adults have a discussion, while they drink Ten FIDY or whatever normal people drink these days.

This is a beast, a monster. This beer puts the pussy in a sarcophagus. I know, on paper it is like “Alright, a Belgian Strong Ale from 2007, this sounds like a fucking horrible idea.” Stay with me now. This goes beyond busting malty wheelies for the sake of rareness, it is revisiting a page from that FFF pedigree from days pays. Time to show the betas what being alpha is all about. On a beer site. About sugar water.

Kong be flexing, gripping on white women, putting Alpha Klaus in his place. Classic.

Three Floyds Brewing Co. & Brewpub
Indiana, United States

Belgian Strong Pale Ale | 15.00% ABV

A: BPA clocking in at 15%? This sounds like the best idea since Hess brewed that 12% abv pale ale. The carb on this geriatric gem is minimal and pours out with this golden viscosity just sheeting for days and leaving that clear sheen on the glass like tears on Drake’s face. The honey glows this dulcet amber and pangs of ambrosial sweetness. It kinda looks like aged regular ass Behemoth does with some years on it, but a surprisingly attractive beer.

Oh great, please, show me more pics of your cases of Zombie Dust. No please, tell us how rare it is. We will wait, oh I see you have some Pride and Joy too, surely this will be an inspiring narrative.

S: The olfactory profile on this is a bizarre mishmash moshpit of titties being groped, plums, a weird cherry quad aspect, but then honey/mild oxy paper/and a crazy floral finish to it. It reminds me of a blend of tripel and quad in execution and the slightest agitation gets it to stand up wicked pissed, tossing esters to and fro like shurikens.

T: This is a sticky syrupy bomb that has a similar slickness and saccharine opener in line with huge wheatwines like SYXX and 2012 White Chocolate. The belgian candi sugar is up in the mix, there is a tart lemon bar pastry stuck in the middle, the swallow kicks up jammy fig and bruised peaches as the whole mob runs down your gullet trashing shit like Monsanto protesters. It is a riot, the unbeatable high, the whole experience, despite 6 year in the bottle to learn its lesson and mellow out, has not learned a fucking thing. This is the type of asshole who would pants the yard duty teacher. This beer says fuck Benzino and still gets the cover of the Source. The alcohol waft is present but integrated surprisingly well. None of the oxy on the nose is present here, or it might have gotten the merciless shit kicked out of it by the foregoing mob.

Two reviews in two days? DDB IS ON A ROLL. Or I am sucking my own dick. brb

M: Again, this is sticky icky honey, put that sugar on my tongue. This coats massively like the fair-skinned version of Dark Lord, back in the days when Dark Lord was relevant beyond duping new traders into brewery only release offloading. For all the hell that critics love to drop on Southern Tier, this is a far most viscous beetus bomb than their Backburner series, but it also is a lot more nuanced and delicious. The abv warms but doesn’t come across in a fusel waft upon exhale, it just sits there stamping hands and allowing entry into the malty gangbang into your mouth.

D: This is not exceptionally drinkable, less so when it starts to get warm and open up. You ever have one of those friends who fucking starts crying every time you guys get really hammered? Serve him this. The SRM is deceptive as shit and then you can take all the Vine videos you want while he talks about how hard it is to make a woman climax. It is ironic that an old beer that is supposed to make you feel Alpha ends up making you feel beta as fuck. Drinking 800 calories in a single bottle: not alpha. Hypertension is only alpha if you got it from doing too many drugs or being a WWE veteran or something. Sticky sweet potations: not alpha, unless you are in a rap video, then enjoy all the Prosecco you want, I guess. This beer makes you feel like a pussy, but in a good way, that “needlepoint next to the hearth” sort of way. I am ok with that that kinda vajeen.

Show that 2013 ticker this bottle, let’s see him talk about Backyard Rye after you own the fuck out of him.

Narrative: Alphonous Konig had trained religiously for the upcoming North American Alpha Male championships and nothing would rob him of the title this year. His torn negligee tank top dragged blithely over this shredded deltoids, furrowed like wanting pumpkins. He had memorized decades of NASCAR trivia and could even call other contestants out if they had a limited understanding of rebuilding carbeurators. He purged his home of every single pillow in preparation of the event and deleted every person out of his phone with a BMI higher than 10. He didn’t need those negative influences in his life, even if his mom did call him constantly. It wouldn’t kill her to work on those obliques. After completing an advanced course in Club and Lounge Rhetoric, he felt fully equipped to demean and manipulate women into his graces. Alphonous lost last year when it was revealed that he once agreed to a couples costume, to the judge’s dismay. This year his hulking frame and vascularity would demonstrate his loud mouthed, uncompromising, short sighted, demeaning, HGH driven egomaniacal self, with top honors.

@cptlawrencebeer Flaming Fury, First Your Mouth is Flaming, Then Your Angus Is Flamed by this Rari

November 18, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

2013 ticker alienation continues with another old whale from times past. Back before the white whale list was filled with T25’s and Mimosa, this used to be a sought out old standby. Then sometime around 18 months ago, people started the old rumor mill of wackiness “ERMAGERD ITS LIKE NAIL PERLESH” and other unsubstantiated claims. Then, haters who will never try the beer, take that and validate their own inability to try it and give credence to the sourest of grapes. Anyway, I said fuck Benzino and got the cover of the Source. I still wanted to tick it, so here we are. Let’s see if this acidic asshole has learned to calm down since 2009 or if its still Flaming so hard

Johnny Blaze flaming on with that Reed Richards tip.

Captain Lawrence, New York
American Wild Ale
10% (?)

Bottle Hype: This was a fun one to make. We took some of our barrel aged sour golden ale and added a bunch of fresh picked local peaches and let the barrels ripen. The flavors are earthy, fruity and of course…SOUR. Enjoy this one on a hot summer day with a ripe juicy peach in hand. From the Captain’s cellar to yours, we hope you enjoy!

A: This looks like a radiant, welcoming lil snifter of sunlight. The lacing is actually pretty substantial given the claims of insane acidity and the srm remains inviting throughout with soapy bubbles that don’t just crackle and peace out instantly. If you liked the way Ithaca Brute looked in a nightgown, here’s another New Yorker that will move that malt paddle.

Don’t let the hard rep of this beer scare you, it has a soft gentle aspect to it

S: Ok, butthole tightening commencing forthright. This is unquestionably an ph bomber dropping in that sub-4 range gracefully and letting you know the danger like a Monarch butterfly. Signaling phenotypes all up in this bitch. There is a light musk, lemongrass, some wet hay but overridingly so this is an apricot and orange pith bomb with huge citrus leaping out of the glass and melting your face like those Nazis at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. A deep pull will give you a sort of “unbalanced Fou Foune” aspect to it, like if an American decided Foune needed a bigger wing, racing stripes and MOMO 5 point harness seats. That. Fucking aggro foune, essentially.

T: This ramps up the delicate profile of Foune and adds apricot, but then covers all those tastes up with amped up acidity, then ramps up the tannic dryness until it feels like you are getting your ass beat to join a Lambic gang that you never asked to be a part of. This is pleasant and so over the top in the foregoing ways that you need to take small sips and let it warm up to even make heads or tails of the wall of death/circle pit taking place. The musk is almost non-present and if you have ever had a mid-2000’s fou foune, then dialed back the musk/funk for a sort of creamy acidity: you have just been flamed. You might as well dye your pubes fire engine red after sampling this bad bitch, completely flaming. Ronald McBush for sheeze.

drop this in the cup, then run to the GI specialist.

M: This is incredibly drying, wipes out the gumline with covering fire, uproots your bicuspids with a deep burn like sick box jumps bro super RHABDO. Acidity is banging and they prolly were gonna bottle this in a non-silica based container since it may eat through the bottle soon: this shit is dry and verrryyyy sour. That being said, this is not Motherfunker, this isn’t 2010 Weyerbacher Riserva, this isn’t THAT kinda sour. People reach far too quickly for nail polish/vinegar or whatever tired ass uninspired adjectives to toss on this beer. Flaming Fury isn’t that. It is just imperial acidity without the off flavors attendant thereto. It is shockingly delicious for how punishing it is. You ever play that game Dark Souls? You know how you get so mad and it just keeps kicking the shit out of you, but you just want more? That’s Flaming Fury. It will tear you up and you will like it.

feel the cankersores forming and your face be like

D: This is strangle crushable in the way that Hot Cheetos are oddly addicting. You take a drink and you are like FUCK THIS BURNS LET ME TAKE ANOTHER SIP TO FIX THIS. Then you have red fingers and a scorched mouth, just wanting more. Sure, it is rare. Sure, there might be some other “comparable” American wilds, a completely unbalanced DDG comes to mind. But ultimately nothing is QUITE the same. This is def worth a tick, still drinking strong, worth trading for and well worth the cost of entry if not for the memorable lambic deuce you will drop the next morning. Dust off that Lindley Park and go embarrass yourself trying to lock this one down. I believe in you.

At first you only consider your brain and insides melting, then you feel a strange welcoming aspect to the experience

Narrative: Flaming Man was one of Dr. Wily’s little known creations. The old doctor never took the trouble to make him his own realm, or even to patent a power for poor old Flaming Man: such was his burden. In reality Flaming Man was really just a huge anthropomorphic beaker of pure acid. There was little use for him around the castle but Dr. Wily felt bad turning such an acidic bastard out on his haunches like Protoman. “Sssiirrrr, I errrhmmm need towelllsss I scorcheddd the entryyyy way marbllleeee. SSSSoorrryyyy-” Flaming Man droned on while attempting to push the pools of acid around with a Brawny towel, making things immeasurably worse. “FOR FUCKS SAKE FLAMING, just, stop get out of here, go bother Cutman or something-” Dr. Wily ordered with a stern command. He had been around for so long and some were outright afraid of him. But deep down the acidity was his undeniable charm, his scorching efficacy, his tingling embrace. He would later earn serious points by spilling and melting Rush’s face off, completely by accident. Not even Megaman himself could deny the memorable wrangling of this caustic bastard.

@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.

@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.

Lost Abbey RE-REVIEW update B2 CURRENT DUCK DUCK GOOZE news breaking UPDATES

September 7, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Alright, I already reviewed this batch 1 bad bitch a while back, but most 2012ers were still sucking on Ovila Quad on instagram straight flexing back then. Well if you aren’t a complete pussy, you will put up with the b2 review and nod in cool reverence for the living work that is DDB. It isn’t duplicative content if you call yourself out on it, right? Anyway, here are my notes from the new batch. If you just got pubes and need to play catch up, here is the ORIGINAL DDG BATCH 1 reviewww

This dude from Virginia put me on blast for like 6 bubbles of nucleation in the bottom. Apparently the dickriding glass cleaners from South Carolina have migrated to an equally racist area.

The Lost Abbey
California, United States
American Wild Ale | 7.00% ABV

I wanted to do a batch 1 vs batch 2 review but ain’t nobody got time for that.

A: Deep orange and radiant hay/illuminated foxtails at the edges of the glass, bubbly frothy eggshell carb, nice lacing dropping doily webbing like Peter Parker down the edges. This is what was inside of Marcellus Wallace’s briefcase. In the shitty 3oz plastic cup at the release I was like “Wtf is this berliner shit?” But the bottle version does serious acidic kettleball workouts and doesn’t skip lactic leg day. Fucking pumped and complex making Cascade offerings look like a one dimensional communcations major from Arizona State.

some people will do horrible things for that sweet DDG nectar

S: Incredible fruit esters, apricot, lactic acidity, tangelo, nectarines, tangerines, a subtle sweetness and a light musk on the backend like wet hay. One complaint that I would like to address is that it lacks a certain brett funk and layers of complexity that top tier belgians bring to the table, but it more than makes up for it in the taste and mouthfeelings, addressed herein.

KBS offers. lel.

T: This just rips up the mouth carpet like a day laborer and lays acidic laminate like a licensed ph3 contractor. There is shocktarts, sweet tarts, lemon zest, grapefruit dryness, and a musky leather aspect on the backend that keeps the acidity in check. Absolutely phenomenal.

M: This is incredibly drying and just drills your gumline like a Peter North video. Incredibly acidic and rolls back those bicuspics and leaves your mandible aching in the best possible way. She is raw with your mouth but you wouldn’t have it any other way, you already are waiting for her to return in 3 years for another tryst in the hay. Cankersores await in the morning but it is the sweet succor of a casual duck sesh.

DDG: you prolly dont even get it

D: this is exceptionally drinkable despite the incredible acidity and if you can’t handle it, work your jaws up with some Petrus and take your complaints elsewhere. The price and availability of this is a complete testicle and wallet defacement that makes me longing for more. Some will take calm refuge and say that 3F Oude Gueuze is better, denial is a hella of a panacea. This is an almost perfect AWA in every way, it is not a gueuze, but it goes beyond even traditional Goozies in sheer excess and panache like an acidic ZR1 that pushes you down in your seat with sheet acidic stiff arming. Fucking phenomenal, every bit as good as B1 that will continue to improve despite the 1.000000000000000001 FG. Mark my words.

Troegs Splinter Gold, Nugget Nectar Aged on REAL GOLD; psyche, just a rare Wild Ale.

August 20, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

In keeping with the theme of elusive old walez, might as well finally put a nail in this coffin and review Splinter Gold once and for all. This fucking asshole used to sit in the mid-80s on the top 100 for years just taunting tickers, elusive and brewed once in 2009, just a complete ticktease.

Thankfully, Masterski called a hit on this bitch and retired it, and all of those assholes who would wring their hands at night could rest at ease knowing this ethereal phantom was finally passed on to the afterlife. OR SO WE THOUGHT.

Then this year Troegs dropped another 750 bottles, 1 per person and the world’s collective nutsack split open at the seam. This dropped the same week as Cali Brandy Huna, so the boards were torn in half like a Cyrax fatality. DO I SUCK ON FLORIDA’S TOES OR GIVE PENNSYLVANIA A DEEP TISSUE MASSAGE? How do I debase myself the most effectively? Well fear not, I am here to review this shit for you. Rest at ease: this beer is better than Cali Brandy Floridy Hunaphie HunaweissStout. You chose wisely.

Some people shoot for gold, cant land blue, and then settle for Black. It is the Splinter failure trajectory in which there is only sadness.

Tröegs Brewing Company
Pennsylvania, United States
American Wild Ale | 12.00% ABV

Notes:
The transformation of Scratch #3-2007 to Splinter Gold has been a slow rest in oak wine barrels dosed with brettanomyces. During a two-year aging period the horsey flavors of the brett combined with the Westmalle yeast used during primary fermentation to create a complex blend of flavors. Bone-dry and 12% abv, Splinter Gold is highly carbonated.

A: Well, at the outset this isn’t a particularly attractive beer. This could just as easily have been called Splinter Dirty Penny. The hues are more of a bronze and deep amber. I was expecting some straight up sunshine in a can like how Brute comes out and starts irradiating titties. Ok so it isn’t gold, but this does have crazy attenuation and the cork almost busted the fuck out, taking its lil Black Note instruction/autoeroticism manual with it. Love those lil manuals, explaining why the rare beer you just got is worth it. It’s like “Fedex already dropped this off Troegs, I know what I have, stop pandering to me for fucks sake.” When I don’t get the lil book, I start a BAD TRADER THREAD. Because fuck that, it is PART OF THE TRADE, tiny books and all.

This beer feels refined, exotic, musky, and could probably fuck you up faster than you realize it.

S: The initial waft is a lightly floral carnation meets orange peel sort of affair, some glad Plug-In yellow scent, then things start getting a lil muskier like when someone begins a story with “well once at the YWCA-” you know shit is gonna get sticky and steamy real quick. THe oak is there, there’s also that weird “abused wife” sort of white wine that showed up in Pinotlambicus/Oui Oui/Confession, if you know what type of beaten wife I am referring to. [Note: domestic violence is not funny in any context, the foregoing was to lend a character to the nature of the white wine character and raise awareness.]

T: The nose of this was a white wine spritzer and bretty affair, the taste is a complete right turn of the old beer Garmin. I was expecting some acidic, complex , tangerine dream with brett in the background sitting on the kick drum keeping time. What I got was some weird wine barrel aged imperial tripel, it has the oak, it has the muscat grapes but this weird sweetness and sticky chick o stick sort of aspect as it warms. There is a candi sugar and weird weight to the taste. Everyone was rubbing their beer clits on bedposts talking about how dry this was going to be. The only thing that was dry was my beergina after tasting this.

You may want to go for some low hanging fruit, make some gold puns, maybe a Trinidad James joke here or there. Let’s go further.

M: Again, this is not a dry beer, nor is it exceptionally “wild” in that loose term that brewers avoid because they want to dominate a less contested category. If they called this a BA tripel, your gumline probably wouldn’t know the difference. If you want a DRY beer, try something like Hill Farmstead E., that is drier than labias at a Dr. Who convention. This is a sort of honey, white wine, sticky bomb. It isn’t exactly HEAVY like an Allagash Interlude, but it is kinda like a bretty semtex on the inside of your mouth. The abv is fucking invisible and the carbonation is almost on a champagne level, really helping matters, but just don’t drink this too warm. Shit goes from delicious pinot grigio fun day to apiary mistakes: wood edition really quickly.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and the ABV has dropped all of its points into stealth kills. You could sip on this while grading student papers and OFFICER THE CUFFS ARE ON TOO TIGHT I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT ASKFM.COM IS. Seriously, incredibly drinkable but not exceptionally tasty as it warms. The age old advice that most beer assholes give is THIS WILL IMPROVE OVER TIME. But, who knows, maybe it wont. Maybe you are afraid of having an opinion or stating something contrary to a breweries’ interests. This is a good beer, relative to the asking price though, other options will get you just as wild with less ale.

9 out of 10 beer nerds wont know what these are. I am ok with that. We need them in basements contributing to databases, not out there grinding on normal people.

Narrative: The cuffs clicked tightly around Jonah Epstein’s wrists as his head was gently lowered into the back of the Dodge Charger. “I told you, I had a couple glasses of Barefoot Chardonnay, I dont KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!” he exclaimed as the officer in front popped a Circus Peanut into his mouth and took a long pull of his cup of Vault. “Quiet you, you think the Pennsylvania state legislature has money to waste with you monkeying around on the phone>” He clicked his nightstick against the screen and Jonah rubbed his wrists against the coarse American musclecar interior. “Listen, I don’t know who called 911, I had a dispute with my stepdaughter, it must have been her, PLEASE, you gotta believe me,” as he pleaded the stale taste of shame and $7 white wine was brought to the forefront of his mind. To think that this entire incident, the false 911 call, the binge drinking and shameful white wine headache, it was all because he would not let his stepdaughter watch Duck Dynasty. “Ok listen, officer, I fucking hate Duck Dynasty, I feel like white trash when I watch it alone, I didn’t want to expose her to that.” The officer reached forward and turned up his shitty Lumineers CD and drowned out poor Jonah’s drunken pleas.

Pat’s Beer Concentrate: Start Crushing Up Rails, Mainline your Ales Back on that Grizzy

August 15, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

It was only a matter of time before people started moving beer into bricks of that china white. That real unstepped on beer concentrate has been a product I can’t seem to go to any limited beer release without hearing about. Tickers be like “Hey you know how I weigh 245 lbs and wear a size 46 waist? Man, well one of my main issues is I can’t drink beer while I go on long hiking trips. It really sucks. I want a tepid, shitty beer to celebrate my hypothetical physical exploits.”

Well fear not, now you can chop up rails of dehydrated beer and have escorts snort them out of your stretch mark luges:

http://www.patsbcb.com/beer-concentrate

Oh you improved beer by removing all the water from it? TELL ME MORE

Consider the MIC FUCKING DROPPED ON THE BORING ASS LIQUID BASED BEER WORLD. You enjoying that St. Lamvinus you purple toothed pussy? Good, because the future is here Marty McFly, powder beer. I expect this to perform well in the 12 person mormon family, those kids are already accustomed to powdered milk, so why not horrible powdered ale?

From their site:

“Beer is typically about 95% water, which makes it heavy, cumbersome, and expensive to transport. But with our innovative and modern brewing process (patent pending) we can create a nearly waterless beer concentrate that contains all the great flavor, alcohol, and aroma of a premium quality micro brew. Our beer is not dehydrated beer!”

I can’t tell you about how when awesome 750mls of goozie show up at my door, how many times I was like “jesus this Blabaer is cumbersome, heavy and expensive to transport.” Because that’s what beer drinkers really give a fuck about, not taste, but shipping magnate considerations: “Oh tight you are gonna send me a Barrel Aged Huna? Wait…how much does that 750ml weigh? Oh fuck that, no thanks, I am not dealing with a cumbersome 2.2 lbs. Not on my watch. That is gonna cost at least eight dollars to ship. No thanks, and go fuck yourself with a letter opener.”

I love that they bring the real science up in the mix, tossing dehydrated malt up in the air like King James. Their process of dehydrating beer is so innovative the US GOVERNMENT CANT EVEN UNDERSTAND IT TO ISSUE A PATENT. Sorry patent attorneys learn to fucking Science, PAT IS ON THE TRILLEST DEHYDRATION TIP. But despite their efforts taking a water and turning it into powder, they assure you: OUR BEER IS NOT DEHYDRATED BEER.

Hold up let me look up dehydrated real quick while my vas deferens resets.

de·hy·dra·tion (d h -dr sh n). n. 1. The process of removing water from a substance or compound

OH shit, they are right, this isn’t just dehydration because they removed way more than water, they removed fun, taste, enjoyability, mouthfeel, shame, and the ability for people not to laugh at your Space Camp bullshit at the next part you go to. Maybe if you won Double Dare and still obsess about NASA, this will be your jam. I can also guarantee your small bent dick will never pass the threshold of an oral cavity. So there is also that.

Beer was fine with water. Why the fuck I dont even

So wait, if it isn’t dehydrate, what the fuck is this?

“Instead, our process (patent pending) allows us to start with almost no water, and carefully control the environment of the fermentation. The result… concentrated beer with all the same great taste you’re used to in a premium micro brew. All you do is add water, carbonate, and enjoy.”

Oh so they brew the beer, something for thousands of years made in a liquid medium, instead they…brew with no water? That’s like if you were like “You have enjoyed normal hand jobs for years, in movie theaters, in Chevrolet Cavaliers, and other cumbersome locations: BUT NOW ENJOY A HAND JOB THAT DOESN’T INVOLVE YOUR COCK OR ANY HANDS AT ALL.” If you are giving me a powder not brewed with water, then it isn’t a HJ; plain and simple.

I love their passing remark about how you just have to…carbonate it yourself. So this travel friendly product needs to be carbonated, that can’t be more cumbersome than just opening a bottle right?

http://www.patsbcb.com/carbonator

Oh wait fuck no. You have to carry a cumbersome penis pump meets Nalgene bottle. If you listen closely you will hear the sound of pilates women fleeing from your dumbass contraption. The pitter patter of size zero steps away from your very presence.

“The carbonator bottle’s organic form feels like it belongs in your hand… because it does! This elegant little addition to your gear list is engineered with an emphasis on rugged durability and simplicity of use. In its more docile state, it functions as your standard run of the mill water bottle (yawn). ”

FINALLY A FUCKING BOTTLE THAT BELONG IN MY HAND, no thanks to you, beer. What with your awkward hand-adverse shape, fuck you beer. It is funny that in the beginning they are talking mad shit on how cumbersome beer bottles are and then they assume that you have a “gear list” to enjoy this granulated precum beverage. Then they try and make it seem like some bad ass decepticon WHILE IT IS IN IN ITS DOCILE FORM. Oh shit you don’t wanna see this in its ultramalignant final form, CARBONATING THE FUCK OUT OF EVERYTHING IN SIGHT.

Just reading through this product website puts a smile on my face. The lulz are resonant through my palatial estate.

Have you ever seen a marketing agent rub his dick so hard against some Dockers that his taint is raw with anticipation? Well read this sentence:

“However, when you decide to kick it into high gear and unleash the technology hiding under its hood, you get a burst of crisp refreshing carbonation to energize the beverage of your choice. So no matter how far your wander lust leads you down the trail of your next adventure, you can still indulge your thirst for carbonated refreshment!”

They seriously wrote that, about a tiny pump on a water bottle. I am not making this shit up.

Another stupid fucking peripheral in the beer community? Disapprove.

Ok so at this point you are probably like “alright, enough cock jokes, seriously, why does this bullshit exist?”

I AM GLAD YOU ASKED:

“In 1997 Patrick Tatera was on a backpacking trip in the southern region of Canyon Lands Park in UT. Just before leaving on the trip, he and his buddy purchased a 12 pack of tasty micro brewed refreshment, put it on ice in a cooler, and then left it in the car at the trailhead. By mid afternoon, they had reached their designated camp spot in an awe inspiring section of the park. The sky was blue, the smell of sage brush permeated the air, and there was not another hiker to be seen. Everything was perfect… except one thing.”

That one thing was a line of leaking diarrhea spilling down the trailhead from all the bullshit that the participants were full of.

First of all, beer nerds don’t hike. Have you been to a beer release? They are just a step away from bucking Bronies, wearing screen printed t shirts and Fedoras from Spencer’s gifts with acne playing Apples to Apples in an industrial parking lot at 4 a.m. These motherfuckers dont exercise. Second, YOU ARE GOING ON A HIKE WHY DO YOU NEED TWELVE WARM JOSTLED BEERS? How big of an alcoholic are you that going out in nature isn’t entertaining enough for your rapacious liver?

Alright, I wont Adam Jackson you with 2200 words, I think 1300 is a good spot to stop. Just stop.

Capitalizing off of stupid fucking entry level craft beer fans? Fist bump.

Dehydrated beer wiped all on my gums, make a white stripe on undergrad skin like a Zebra, I call that shit attenuation fever.

dontdrinkbeer

Drinking beer, so you don't have to.

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