@darkhorsebrewco 2010 Bourbon Barrel Plead the 5th and 2011 Plead the 5th Aigre, Sub 100 Bottle Counts Like a Red Nose

December 9, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

First and foremost, huge LYMI thanks to Tom TRXXXPXXXSSSS for droping both of these gems on the old DDB liver.

When I imagine that life is like in the cold north of Michigan, I think of bleak sheets of white, running 24th fret solos on a B.C. Rich guitar, and feeling those supple stretch mark grooves along the chest and thighs of that sweet Midwest PYT that I picked up at a bowling alley. These are my fantasies. For every person in Michigan that is large, there is a corresponding bottle count that is small. Such is the axiomatic nature of the beer world. 230 bottles of Blueberry Eisbock are released to husky beer nerds and all is correct in the world. Eating disorder Florida will drop 14,000 bottles of Huna and still live in denial about its weight. Balance to the force.

But what happens when Michigan drops a beer with 36 bottles like BBpt5 OG Edition 2010 750ml banana clip release? How about that 60(?) bottle beat drop of the Aigre? WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO THEN? If you said “slay whales” audibly at your cubicle, then yes, you are correct. You are also a fucking weirdo. Let’s get it.

Before you complain about small pours, I had plenty, please continue pulling your testicle skin over your tiny dick aka that tiny tent.

Dark Horse Brewing Company
Michigan, United States

Style | ABV
Russian Imperial Stout | 14.00% ABV *

*My understanding is that these have changed over time and the first batch was like 15%+ the Aigre was (?) and the youdontgiveafuck was measured at an all time high.

Also, I already reviewed this bad bitch RIGHT HERE SO READ THIS NORMAL ASS BBpt5 review EVERYTHING YOU SEE WILL BE A CONTRAST

In other words, I am not gonna dupe some content for the purpose of hoodwinking them loyal readers. Instead, I am gonna be a lazy shit and just point out WHAT IS DIFFERENT. Why set up the laptop when you can jerk it in bed to old beer pics on your phone? Right.

A: Both of these bottles have some lack luster ass carb. They seem a bit more thin than their “fresh” counterparts and I feel like time may have metabolized a bit in the spacious 750ml apartment. Floor to ceiling windows and shit. There is no lacing to speak of, but who is really speaking of lacing these days anyway besides some entry level Papazian dipshits?

When a brewery releases less than 100 bottles, you are drinking homebrew. Some people just want to watch the world burn.

S: The 2010 bbpt5 is really muted and has a light char, some faded cocoa like chocolate milk left out overnight, the bourbon profile imparts more of a coconut and oaky ghost rather than the full on fisting that the fresh version pumps in 5 digits strong. The aigre is a totally different beast. I was expecting some Tart of Darkness fucking sour stout, but the sour profile is really nuanced and makes me doubt whether they really set out to make this sour. There is a cola/Dr. Pepper aspect with some black cherry and currant, but again, its really in the backfield kicking grass and not really contributing much to the company softball team. It is essentially pleading the 5th on the sour olfactory notes.

T: The bbpt5 OG version is kinda disappointing if you have had the super cutty, tongue kiss your aunt, erase all your save data hardcore fresh version. The roast is there, the bourbon and oak is really muted and integrated more like a sort of sweetness and faint prickly cherry finish. Truthfully, the valley between the aigre and the old ass BBpt5 is not that wide. Sure the aigre is sour, but it’s not exactly the mouth-fucking extravaganza you signed up for when you bought tickets to the lactic donkey show. The aigre offers up an amped up (3 of 10) tartness with a bit of plum, blackberry, but really turnt down. The original itself may have a mild infection, but the aigre is so light in execution it doesnt really step in the way. It’s not like when Funky Buddha takes you to summer camp and violates the fuck out of you with infection. This is more of a “touches your boner accidentally when reaching for the popcorn” sort of infection. It is there, but it doesn’t seem intentional, so it’s ok.

36 bottles. Bring this to a tasting and shitty Proprietor’s tickers be like-

M: The mouthfeelings on both of these are thin, wispy little endeavors and the abv is integrated seamlessly. The finish is closer to Event Horizon and Velvet Merkin than anything in the big boy realm. It could be the roast, it would be the age, or the dryness, but it’s a pretty seamless mouthfeel that coats, washes away, and then leaves no trace like a top tier escort. All is well in the mouth face tasting place.

D: The aigre was less drinkable, largely because there was a little prickly tartness at the finish that wasn’t a game changer, but it was more of a mild annoyance. It didn’t contribute much to the beer and came across like those stupid vents they put on cars that clearly don’t need them. It’s like, your car has no intercooler, you clearly dont need a fucking hood scoop. This beer was good as it is, you dont need some cherry/cranberry bitch in the backseat talking about how good Chick Fil A is. Furthermore, the 2010 bbpt5 was GOOD, but the fresh version is GREAT. The thin aspect kinda ruins that HUGE OPPRESSIVE bourbon waft and coating I have come to love smacking the underside of my perineum. That lil punishment made the experience worthwhile. This is too polite, goes down too easily, and finishes too quickly. I had to sound sleazy but stout tease me, I dont want it if it’s that easy.

When Tom dropped this on my doorstep it was like “well fuck, time to get to work”

Narrative: I already did a narrative for this beer. If you want an Aigre narrative, sprinkle in some tart references to a distant brother or something equally transparent. The writing on this site is two tips mushing until forever.

@westbrookbeer Mexican Cake 4 Way Battle Royale, Columbian Lumberjack Rules; Ladders and Cagematch Setup

November 20, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Alright, if you follow this site regularly on twitter/instagram/facebook/WP/etc. you are probably stout brown in the face after seeing a relentless 5 pics on Monday of MC shit. Apologies in advance, I think of poor Etan, I think he subscribes to every one. Anyway, I don’t feel like dropping a solid 2000 word deuce and belaboring the point on this one so I will just be lazy as two lesbians in a Sharper Image massage chair and just post some thoughts and we can lay this whole Mexy dispute to rest.

Without further ado, let’s find out about Mexican Cake: from South Carolina, a state that probably couldn’t advocate worse treatment of Mexican people.

Invariably some dipshit will complain 1) NOT THE SAME 4 GLASSES or 2) YOU DIDNT DRINK ALL 88oz. Criticism fail.

Before I go any further, yes, I know that there is a draft-only “COFFEE CAKE” but I couldn’t give a fuck less about that after mowing through 4 variants, so content yourself with this for now. This beer doesn’t need any more fucking adjuncts. Speaking of which, if you have a Coffee Abaraxas, hit me up.

FIRST UP: Regular Ass Mexican Cake, No Barrel Treatment, Not Rare, Psh only cocoa nibs, vanilla beans, cinnamon sticks, and fresh habanero peppers. Do you even adjunct bro?

The Scrappy Doo to Huna’s Scooby.

These all look essentially the same and exhibit the same base olfactory profile what with the birthday cake sweetness from the vanilla, this horchata/mole thing going on with the cinnamon and habanero peppers, with a solid chocolatey closer. This is not the same old thin song and dance that North Carolina rolls out and I think the enhanced racism from South Carolina adds some depth to the body of this beer. You can taste the conservative faith-based attenuation. The mouthfeel is mid-range and coats similar to Parabola and Damon. You don’t get the Huna and Abyss 1.045 FG sweetness, but it is better in that regard. The problem that arises is that there are just too many fucking adjuncts going on. It’s like when you go to an entry-level improv show and its 7 different dipshits all shouting punchlines and nothing coherent comes together. The chocolate aspects serve as an MC to keep the other assholes in check and it is a very good representation of the chili stout style.

Verdict: This is the “worst” of the 4, but that is hardly fair with no barrel treatment complexity or depth. This shines in brightness to the chilis and likely would pair with food best. The most accessible and def worth seeking out.

THIRD PLACE: Apple Brandy Barrel Mexican Cake, AB Huna be giving tickers all these unreasonable expectations

Apple Brandy!? OH SHIT LIKE LAIRD’S HUNA- No. Very far from that, in fact.

I will admit, I came into this expecting this to be the best, not fucking third place. The thing that I failed to consider was: 1) this beer is far thinner than Huna 2) those malts are needed to bounce the vanilla and cinnamon and cocoa and rock candy and skittles in the brew and finally 3) apple brandy treatment is really. fucking. sweet. I don’t mean that in a mid-90’s rrrrradical rollblader way, I mean sweet like packets of Stevia rubbed on the tip of your cock. The barrel comes out the gates with sticky sweet apple pie filling, home run pies coated in cake batter, and then a strange heat that just does not meld with the sweet profile. Add the relatively thin base to parade all of the foregoing out upon and it’s a bit underwhelming.

Verdict: This trades at an ape shit level and I don’t see it improving over time. Those solid 5 ratings from tickers in the first week make me wonder if people awash in Terrapin are where I should be accepting my beer reviews from. I can’t recommend trading a fucking DDG/DBD/DDB/BDD/OPP for one of these.

RUNNER UP: Red Wine Barrel Mexican Cake, Put on those Lane Bryant stretch pants on and go full on divorcee mode. Bonus points if you bought this bottle with alimony funds

Mmm put on those jammies and Cougar Town and just nest with this one

I expected this to taste like a Smuckers trainwreck and potentially be worse than the base beer, but I was wrong as two Arizona State co-eds in an algebra class. This is really fucking phenomenal and the red wine underpinning is an adjunct flavor that actually FEELS LIKE IT BELONGS THERE. This doesn’t continue to push your o-ring with sweet or weird savory, it provides a tart aspect that cuts through the other din like a high hat through a metal solo. This is actually the driest of the bunch too and the fruit character somehow just works with all of the chili and cinnamon tingling. This would be hands down first place if the final variant weren’t just fucking phenomenal. I really recommend trying to lock down the “least desirable” variant, awesome offering.

Verdict: certainly worth seeking out and a vast improvement over the apple brandy. Let’s be honest, most of these “ERMAGERD MEXICAN CAKEEEEE” tastings like like 11 khaki-teethed assholes in a backyard each getting nuances from their tired 1oz pour. “OH YEAH I GET ALL 5 of the adjuncts in the bottom of this dirty glass, GONNA DROP A HOT 5/5 on UNTAPPD BRB NO ONE TALK TO ME.” Seek this one out, does not disappoint.

WINRAR: Jack Daniels Barrel Mexican Cake is the Best Variant, I know, I am surprised as you are. Fuck.

Inb4 “JACK IS NOT BOURBON I READ THIS ONLINE ARTICLE AND NOW I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT CHARCOAL FILTERING THANKS MAXIM”

HOW COULD THIS HAPEN. I know, I too had the memories of painful JD Eclipse in my mind, the dead bodies huddle in piles, palates destroyed, when I opened this banger. This is not only the best variant, it is straight up better than Rum, CA Brandy and Whiskey variants of Huna. THINK ABOUT THAT SHIT. This is a real goldilocks scenario because the JD adds a great caramel aspect to assist the cinnamon/vanilla, the oak is just sweet enough to give a depth to the sweet cocoa, the dryness is enough to pair with the chili and the whole thing feels amazing, like when you clean your Fleshlight for the first time. This is mindblowingly good and shockingly, the easiest to acquire, all stretched buttholes considered. Thanks again KG for this one.

Verdict: this beer is phenomenal and one of the best stouts that I had this year AND I FUCKING DRANK BOTH NARWHAL AND SUEDE SO THINK ABOUT THAT ONE OK. But really, this was exceptional and well worth a rebrew, unlike EBT ass Apple Brandy, lookin for handouts.

So there were have it, wait what? Narrative? Go fuck yourself. We are at 1200 words already. Here’s some memes, drop them in where ever you want, I am finished with this shit:

refill bottles of MC variants and smash them at a tasting. beerloser heart attacks ensue.

Thanks for taking time out of your busy permavirgin schedule to read my review of some sugarwater.

I SAW THE MC VARIANTS ON DDB AND WANTED TO LAND ONE WITH THIS HALIA-

@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.

@hillfarmstead Madness and Civilization I: The Unbecoming More Than Without

July 8, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

I wanted to use an abstract gerund phrase to take the piss out of recent brewery titles but Jean and the TH boys beat me to it with a lengthy Vonnegut reference, so we all get to collectively rub those philosophy degrees for kindling. Except I can’t brew for shit. Anyway, I Tarrantino’ed the fuck out of these reviews and dropped a fat #2 of madness on your before I closed with a long hard #1 of Madness. This has been colloquially deemed the more “accessible” of the two offerings. But that is like a Dupont Registry buyer saying that a Gallardo is an “entry level offering.” Take your KBS bullshit elsewhere, the men are talking. Anyway, let’s take this supercar of stouts around the ring a bit, is this the malty r8 everyone is hoping for or just some bullshit Tesla hype? We shall see.

Look, oh wow, I didnt share it, that means I know some shit, right, oh wait I am still a prediabetic bitch.

Hill Farmstead Brewery
Vermont, United States

Style | ABV
American Double / Imperial Stout | 9.00% ABV
It is a BLEND of very complex components – 2 year old Buckwheat Rye aged in Elijah Craig 18 barrels, 15 month Maple Wheat Imperial Stout, and a blend of Vanilla and Cacao Nib Bourbon Barrel aged Everett.

A: Alright drink all of the above in an just imagine the world that you live in being sucked sideways by a wanting George T. Stagg fleshlight. This is far more lively than the second offering, but for reasons that will be outlined shortly. This is the Island of the Blue Dolphins of the HF stouts accessibility and it looks beautiful with a splashy wake like some bourbon otters are cracking some cask oak on their chests. The carb is there, the alcohol doesn’t drill your anoos, everything was well.

Sometimes I get emails about some stupid BJCP or Naked Pint shit and I be like-

S: This is where things start going from standard to “oh fuck, this Fedex box was worth it.” I love two things that I have read in other reviews: 1) this is amazing at 45 degrees and 2) I can certainly pick out XXXX barrel. For the former, you dun goofed. The olfactory consequences will never be the same. Let this warm up and it is like a derelict candy dealer dropping cacao and sticky hersheys in your nose holes. This is more scent than MC2, and delivers a more complex smell bouquet than its elusive brother. You get some red wine tannins at higher temps in the same vein as Parabola but this has the sustain of oak and baker’s chocolate that rings deep and pure. The nose just fucks you sideways and you tip up for it.

T: The taste does not deliver in the intensity that MC2 provides. This has a sweetness and almost a Grape Fanta finish to it that is still GOOD, but after my butthole was stretched to Rubix cube levels by MC2, it is hard not to long for that gentle chocolatey fist. Regardless, this has a more nuanced gentle profile with red wine tannins, the sweetness of the bourbon, a vanilla profile that seems to watch over this shit like a Mormon dance, not letting anything become too ridiculous. At the closer you get a kind of chocolate pancake aspect that is sweet but the red wine just interlopes hard like an Orange County mother you wish would move its fake tits on out of here.

MC1 puts you on that sweet sticky drinkable game that you love to love.

M: The mouthfeel is lighter than MC2 for a billion reasons, but it has its own charms. You can apprehend the nuances and variety of notes taking place here, whereas the MC2 is a full on assault that takes a fuckload of concentration to address, this is a delcious Event Horizon sort of stout that lets you meander at your leisure, never unfulfilled. It is sweeter but doesn’t overwhelm in a way that most bullshit tickers wont notice anyway as they are lining up 45 bottles on the mantle of their garbage track home.

D: This is easily more drinkable than MC2 but the format also almost seems to lend itself to this fact. If you have ever been to a diner at 3am and had the “chicken noodle soup” and had the reduced blast that is the stiffarm of concentrated madness, you will know the true nature of this beer. To be honest, most people will like this version more. The bitch ass tickers who focus on rarity will claim to like MC2 more and continue to rate Darkness down for being “too hot” but at the end of the day, these are two different beers both kissing the neck of two totally different neckbeards. MC2 is for the hardened veteran ready for the 2009 Beer Cynic, the MC1 is there to glad hand the normal “Huna for BWXIV” kids. I don’t know what DDB has degenerated to, but this shit was delicious.

some tickers complain that DDB has lost touch with the regular beer world, like this shit ever resided there.

Narrative: “Hello? Is this recordin-pshh- hello?” Taylor Carmen tapped the monitor pleadingly. He never meant for this to happen. Just three weeks ago he was your average Orange County youth, slammed Silverado, flat brimmed hat, Crazy Town not an uncommon artist within the ambit of his auditory selection. He was a master of NU METAL and presented a deep and profound manner that every woman with pink highlights would embrace. But now here he was, an ad hoc astronaut. To be fair, the prank war was getting a bit out of hand. “Please, if anyone sees my step mom, tell her, I am so sorry for mistreating her-” Taylor started it by down tuning his friends bass to E flat. Then the classic bucket in the doorway, things escalated, and they tricked poor Taylor into boarding the launch of a new Verizon satellite. “And if you see Aiden, tell him he is a total dick. . .I am running out of air. . .but he should know. . .those texts never came from a. . .chick-” He layed against the GPS monitor and gasps the sickest final breaths of a bro cut down before the pinnacle of his sickness. Later they would recover these remains from Mars and realize his genius, a prank that was common to all but inacessible and perfectly executed for its purity and sweet nature. Poor Taylor Carmen.

@hillfarmstead Madness and Civilization Part II: HURRY UP WITH MY DAMN CROISSANTS

July 3, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Well what we have here has all the makings of a good old fashioned brewery shitstorm on the boards:
1) 300 bottle release
2) 1 per person
3) World class brewery
4) High ass ratings
5) Likely one off

The smattering of beer boners could be heard ticking against the Anchor Blue jeans around the nation once this beer was dropped. This shit hits harder than a Tiesto drop and gets up in your spine like a fat sack of MDMA. It is like BA stout concentrate taken to Kuhnhenn levels, but managed with a Vermont throttle control. This is easily the biggest/most over the top beer that Shaun and the boys have put together and, lezbiahonest, this shit is some Kefka level boss mode shit with 3 stages.

THIS ISN’T EVEN ITS FINAL FORM.

300 bottle release and Chomsky be peepin and creepin

I guess the irrelevant text is kinda relevant, moderate structuralism link
Hill Farmstead Brewery
Vermont, United States

American Double / Imperial Stout | ABV 15%+

Notes:
From a single bourbon barrel having held a unique blend of 6 different threads for more than 16 months.

A: This is deeper than Damon, drops more viscous sheets than the Wonka Factory, puts up clear coats harder than Heisenberg and leaves a deep khaki foam like that Suicide Girl/Barista you clear your internet history on the reg. This is bold and the spotty lacing tries its damndest like Persephone to claw up out of the blackness.

This beer is strong, but profound at the same time.

S: This reminds me of a Hill Farmstead spin on the BCBS model, putting 7’8th time math rock breaks pushing beyond the simple bourbon to chocolatey sticky caramello goodness. If you have ever had a Whatchamacallit, then take that and dip it in George T. Stagg and cut it with some Nestle Quikk. It is mindblowing and seriously, dont even fuck with this beer below 60 degrees, you are selling your weak acorn penis short. There is a certain aspect of BCBS that seems to lack balance and this beer provides a certain roasty rub and tug that is a full release in the stout world. Ropes of chocolate all over the bourbon hotel walls.

T: The initial foot rubbing up your calf is this sticky sweet Hershey bar, the alcohol is present but adds more of a complexity to the roast than sticking out like something found in Pugachev’s Cobra, etc. The baby palates would still have a hard time knocking this one because the finish is this mallow/Zero Bar/xmas neighbor fudge that just lingers like that asian chick from Match.com you accidentally met. There’s a prominent vanilla aspect that lies underneath the surface of this sticky Vermont bayou but it isnt like the Coldstone Creamery Bukaki fest that is BCBS Vanilla, it has more respect for your mouth hole.

M: If it isn’t already evident, this is a sticky residual sugar banger that would be akin to BA Huna in finish if the drying roast wasn’t there to act as hall monitor. I don’t want to convey this beer as some beetus bomb, but it isn’t as roasty as the Kuhnhenn BA Black Hole rimmers, it is somewhere in between and just flexes those malt lats getting all the babies attenuation.

D: At colder temps, I was kinda shoulder shruggy as to how much of this beast I could wrangle, but once it warmed up the complexity of the flavor is gentler and wraps that bourbon profile around you like a blanket fresh from the dryer. It is a shame that most of the sand dollar nippled traders will have all of 2 ounce of this in some bullshit line of a humid backyard, because it is really an experience to open you up like a gifted urologist. A decadent cocoa smelling doctor with a certain southern vanilla panache and a mahogany scarf.

Meanwhile, in a Michigan garage, some dude is filming a 9 minute video review about SN Narwhal.

Narrative: In the occult brewing schools of the 1950’s there was a wild malt-based rebellion against the established post-pilsner culture of the Greatest Generation. The paradigm shift was a result of restructuring opinions about the nature of barrel aging versus the hegemony of cask influence. Ultimately a few schools elected to meet in secret to lay the foundations of stout meaning, in two terms: analytic stout creation and synthetic stout creation. To truly address the myopic problems with the pilsner paradigm a fuller understanding of the nature of stout reactionism (namely bottom fermentation subsistence in a culture of Hellenistic top fermenting dominance) was required. Ultimately the science of stouts progressed. These secret stout creation groups became empirical in nature and their feeble reliance upon pseudo-historical analysis was deconstructed from the roots. In one such meeting, Master Brewer Breucault touched the tits of analytic brewer, Wale Durant’s wife, Ariale. Since this epoch most breweries have progressed to a dialectical tradition of adding shitty adjuncts to everything in a bacchanalian overthrow of the oppressive yoke of good brewing” and “anti-Dogfishism.”

Prairie Bomb, As Soon As the Mashtun is up in the Benz, Ales be Poppin like Parkinson’s

June 25, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

This brewery has dropped a legit blitzkrieg on the trade boards and the offshelf distro world in general. It seems like just months ago I was sipping on the only available beer, Prairie Standard, suddenly places are getting like 10 different offerings overnight from these Okies. Their saisons were a legitmate experience, the hoppy offerings are clean and refreshing…but what about the dark side? Often times when someone is super cutty at the farmhouse world, they go to shit when they try and run a hook and ladder into the chocolate malt world. Remember when Jester King rolled out racksonracksonracks of “farmhouse” stout. Belgian Black Metal sounds like Vampire Weekend. Anyway, this is a huge stout with a list of adjuncts longer than my dick, LET’S SEE IF IT HOLDS UP.

This beer is Bomb, Lloyd Banks is not.

Prairie Artisan Ales
Oklahoma, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 14.00% ABV

A: At first blush this has all the blueprints of a walk down Hunaland, which is the gulag in Candyland most players never make it to. The oily sheeting is substantial but you can see its not just a residual sugar mess of needless sheeting, it holds a certain degree of poise and purpose, coating in black khaki but letting the alcohol sheeting zambonie that shit clean. This is substantial in depth and has the attractive cacao foam on top like some overpriced fixed gear coffee drink some stupid girl in a stretched out tank top with a strapless bra underneath would buy. The coffee, not this beer.

A beer this complex is sure to satisfy, use your tornado tongue

S: Alright, time to tap this core sample because we are dealing with some serious strata up in this bitch. Layers and layers of complex periods piled up like corkboard. You know all those adjuncts on the label, well they show up like Dick Tracy villains in turn on the nose: coffee, roasty acidity, a sweetness like Coldstone Creamery vanilla, a tiny bit of peppers submerged under the chocolatey decadence that is pervasive. No swappertunities here you Yoplait fucks, stout hard or GTFO.

T: This is like a Terrence Malick movie rolled into a liquid medium, I don’t know if I fully get it but damn it feels good to try. The whole thing opens with that coffee dryness, baller ass single batch fair trade painter handing out acidity flyers and drying until chocolate shows up dripping wet in a candy coated slab. A fucking 88 Buick Regal of cacao milk chocolatey goodness leaves trails of stick fondant and mousse on all the low-calorie haters. You can feel yourself enrolling in crossfit when you take each substantial sip, there’s no Instragram hashtag to motivate people to this panoply. The vanilla is ranked out and doesn’t show up at all, for obvious reasons. It’s like the cast of Biggest Loser entered an elevator and vanilla is the thin ass size 20 contestant in the mix. Thank god, the chilis are subtle and don’t go ham handed like Mexican cake. It provides more of a diaphanous crackle than a full on heat that deadens the palate. Abv called in sick, nowhere to be found, having a beat sesh to Judge Judy and scrambled Cinemax all day long.

This beer is strange, but it makes my socks go up and down

M: This doesn’t coat as hard as huna, but it doesn’t really need to since the taste focuses on two aspects that don’t especially need a deep lingering stickiness. It is somewhere in that Parabola range where you wouldn’t call it exceptionally thick, but it isn’t like Blackout Stout/Event Horizon or one of those svelte thin ass stouts. I am looking at you, size 1 jeans wearing Czar Jack with that apple ass.

D: This is tough to answer and I guess it really is up to your parole officer because sure you CAN put away probably 2-3 of these 14% beers. You can smash Goldfish on the entryway and leave a teary voicemail for your ex too, but that doesn’t mean you should. I think the 12oz was perfect, you get the blast of flavors, it opens up and sweetens as it warms and the affair is over with a swift economy that is approachable, unlike a Terrence Malick movie. This displays that poise that I wish some Bruery beers would give in their girth and 750 format, my liver and love handles can’t take it.

This beer is better than most of your other life decisions.

Narrative: The employees at Nestle were non-union, well, slaves really. The cacao factory in Bolivia was the only show in town now that Kraft had shut down all the local illegal logging operations with their new Chocomegalopolisplex. It looked not unlike Midgar with its huge Mako reactor filled with molten chocolate. The human resource department scrambled around the molten obsidian body of a 4’11” bolivian man who fell into the priming tanks. “GOD DAMN IT WE HAVE TO RECALL ALL OF THOSE CHIPS AT THE HEIGHT OF TOLLHOUSE SEASON!” one executive boomed. The tiny indigenous man parted his lips and the saccharine mud gurgled as he gasped for breath. “Por…por favor…no podemos usar…cafe…en la…dulces….” he stammered dripping mahogany drops on the acrylic floor. “WHAT IS HE SAYING! This is going to be a PR nightmare if we can’t get those coffee/vanilla/chili variants out for the holiday rush,” the production overseer fumed. An uncertified company nurse patted dabs of molted chocolate from Isidro, licking her fingers in the process. The press release would be a carefully executed affair, presenting all of the merits in a restrained way, albeit with underlying power and consequences. Isidro would receive a lifetime supply of Nestle Quik in both regular and strawberry variants, resulting in the unforeseen death of his village due to malnourishment.

Jack’s Abby BA Framinghammer Triple Fucking Shootout: BA, Vanilla and Coffee. Pepper that Angus for the Lager Lovin.

May 29, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Since I have been neglecting the fuck out of this trashheap of a website, I figure that some Jack’s Abby loving is in order, in the form of a tawdry threeway. Barrel aged Framinghammer is a slick little treat from those lager masters up in the frigid northeast. Just when I thought my beer boner was on full swole, they bust out two fleshlight treatments: vanilla and coffee. Cialis levels attained. To clarify, these were not aged in fleshlights, though. One can dream.

Here is the regular ass Framinghammer. Just a world class beer, nothing to see here.

Here is the regular ass BA Framinghammer. Just a world class beer, nothing to see here.

Jack’s Abby Brewing
Massachusetts, United States
Baltic Porter | 10.00% ABV

The 2013 bottles were aged in Old Weller 107 bourbon barrels.

The beer is inversely better than my shitty picture, so it’s really good. Vanilla balling.

Baltic Porter | 10.00% ABV
– Aged on vanilla beans, no fucking shit.

I love that HF stemware but I can’t help but feeling like a premenopausal single mom clutching it. Watching Nurse Jackie and Damages and shit.

Baltic Porter | 10.00% ABV
Big, bold, black and barrel aged. A length conditioning period in bourbon barrels creates a silky smooth chocolatey mouth feel enhanced by the use of oats and brown sugar. Noticeable sweetness gets balanced by roasted malt and hop bitterness. Additional flavors include bourbon, vanilla, and oak. This one is aged on Barismo coffee strictly for the pre-teens and the roast haterzz.

A: I say this with the utmost sincerity: they look exactly the fucking same. Some would argue that the carb levels might be a bit different or the lacing has some mild variation but that guy probably reads Pitchfork media and fingers his pisshole when he gets home from his job at Lowe’s so fuck that guy. It is slick and nimble in its blackness, straight scared squid action with an inkiness that imparts a degree of wateriness in the splishy splashing. The carb is a single finger of mocha foam that subsides and gives way to some bottom fermenting beauty. This porter is distinctly porter with none of this “IS BBXXIV A STOUT” sort of bullshit thread creating nonsense. Porters por vida.

This isn’t like the porters that you buy, mine have adjuncts and were inaccessible and aged in barrels so it’s ok for me to have stretch marks.

Smell

Barrel aged:
This beer has a fantastic waft to it with oak, caramel, milk chocolate, a silky Dove bar dipped in E&J, and a mallow foam stroking it in the corner. It is a 1970’s mashup of discoteque madness with porters doing cocoa rails off of unshaven bush. Very legit all around, but then the variants stepped in-

Vanilla:
This goes apeshit and gives you more vanilla than you are bargaining for. The effect is so pronounced that it almost comes across like vanilla frozen yogurt or some Coldstone Creamery madness. The regular had pronounced vanilla and this takes the bullhorn and starts pumping sticky sweet AWOL Nation shit up your nose that’s a bit too produced to be loved. Too sweet, too methodical.

Coffee:
Unlike the vanilla, this takes the base beer and massages the palm lightly, pressing a cup of joe in its hand and leaving some lipstick on the glass. This feels decadent and classy with a sharp roastiness that leans closer to the acidity profile found in the Black Cat series if you are one of those dudes who smells cups of coffee while buying your shitty Armani cologne. But for realtalk, this is the best smelling variant and doesn’t forgo the other aspects, the coffee works hand in hand with the baker’s chocolate, sticky brownie batter, and maintains that clean lager waft to it without any meddling esters in the mix.

Winrar: Coffee, easy game next question.

Give this to your trifling friends, watch their faces when you tell them it is a lager, post your stupid findings in a forum condescending on them in a passive aggressive way you pussy.

Taste

Barrel Aged Sweetits:
This has an amazing clean crispness that belies the expectations of some stouty mess running along your jawline. It opens with a cocoa aspect, some 85% cacao you impulse buy at Trader Joes, nice 4 Roses sort of sweetness in the finish that screams mallow and werther’s original with a light pat of coconut on the ass. Just fantastic.

Vanilla Facial:
This again just pushes all of the other aspects out of the spotlight and the base beer could not even beer barrel aged since the sticky cake batter just drops hot loads on everyone’s chest. It is just too much, too sweet, almost reminds me of a sticky oiliness in execution. Let me say all this with the qualifier that it is STILL BETTER than almost every BA porter that I have had, but these three just wreck buttholes in tandem so it’s hard to be forgiving.

Coffee Groping:
This has some of the same issues as vanilla, what with it pushing the espresso harder than a 7th grade weed dealer, pumping a hipster agenda. But god damn, you willingly comply because the product it is moving is so good. The beans and coffee merge with the seamless chocolate fondant wateriness of the base beer and it is a perfect fusion of RomCom and softcore coffee porn. You know the type.

WinRar: Gotta give it to Barrel Aged on this one.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter which variant you pick, someone is getting fucking destroyed.

Moutherfeelings:

Again, all of these have the similar base of a swift brown water rafting trip (i.e. in Jalisco.) The toasted malts don’t hang around too long and the chocolate, almond, whipped mocha aspects all embrace the barrel lovingly. The coffee is a bit drier than the other two, but it makes you thirstier for something that is already exceptionally drinkable. The vanilla is a bit more sticky and if you shop at Lane Bryant, you could probably drink this while everyone else is at prom/getting hand jobs and you can smile in the mirror with your sweet khaki stained teeth and tell yourself that you have a good personality. But ultimately, the sticky sheeting and cling to the vanilla gets old fast, like that pesky 10th grader who wont stop texting you after you said you loved her. Fucking clingy.

Winrar: Coffee.

Drinkability:

It is tough to break these buys apart in this aspect because I could crush these like homeless people crush cans at a recycling center: all day and while covered in filth. The variants are a bit less drinkable overall because of stylistic hurdles, but they are still damn near session beers and drink like Edmund Fitzgerald that leads to DUI-city at 10% abv. Even the most closed vagina would embrace that clamshell hug for how drinkable these old chestnuts are.

Winrar: Barrel Aged version.

Overall winner, bossing your palate the fuck around, telling you what’s what:

The Coffee version pounded size 1 hipster men in their skinny livers, have them all redfaced talking about some shitty half finished memoire that they are finishing, the great american coming of age lager that most people with defined lats will trashcan and enjoy.

The coffee is amazing, so it wins.

NARRATIVE:

If you think I am typing a narrative for you ungrateful loftdwellers after laying down a solid 1200 words, you can push your testicles into your butthole.

I bet it does.

Perennial Abraxas SHOOTOUT: REGULAR versus BARREL AGED, My Body Is Ready

March 20, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Ever since this god damned barrel aged Abraxas came out, beer nerds have not shut the fuck up about this beer. It was released in the midwest, which made shit even worse because it is not NASCAR season and people living in the freezing cold dont have shit else to do but wonder what those size 11 women look like under those North Face jackets. So today let’s just economize a bit: no narrative, no bullshit, just direct and to the point, WHICH ABRAXAS IS BEST? Someone from Florida will probably chime in with a tired ass joke like “HUNA IS THE BEST ABRAXAS!1!!” and we all nod and he sits back in his desk and goes back to learning his times tables and shit.

Let’s get this stupid ass review over with already.

REGULAR ASS VERSION:
Perennial Artisan Ales
Missouri, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 10.00% ABV

BALLER ASS 564 BOTTLE RELEASE INSTAWHALE GIMMIE ALL YOUR CHURCHILLS VERSION:
Perennial Artisan Ales
Missouri, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 11.00% ABV

Technically only 500 bottles were really released since one dude went and scooped up like 80 bottles, but, we all know about that story. I will leave the rest to conjecture/autoeroticism.

Regular on the left, BA on the right, zero fucks given in the middle.

Appearance:

I am not even doing this, they look almost exactly the fucking same. Seriously. It is like when people ask about the look of Goose Island Rare versus BCBS, I want to be like, are you fucking kidding? Ok for some reason, barrel aged version has a little bit more carbonation, but we are talking minimal amounts to begin with. This beer isn’t winning any beauty contests on either front. It is flaccid, lays there all dark and calculating. If you did a cuvee of Abyss and Huna you’d get the idea. Dark ass mocha foam, looking all like a coffee drink you drop $4.75 on. The sheeting is massive and if you are a wine asshole, “THE LEGS ON BOTH ARE SPLENDID!”

ALL MY TRADING PARTNERS ARE DEAD.

Smell:

Regular Ass: This is kinda vegetal, deep roast, some kinda bell pepper and ancho thing going on with no cinnamon to speak of, or really any spices up in that moshpit of roast and char. Go dice up some onion and toss it into a Surly Darkness, boom, you have smelled regular Abraxas. Perfect beer to drink at a Quincinera.

Baller tits: This is like a bowl of fucking Cinnamon Toast Crunch, it is sweet with no real peppers going on, no real bourbon going on either. It smells like what I imagine that Bimbo factory smells like, you know that place that makes all the treats that our migrant workers eat? That place. It is sugar and cinnamon and there should be a cartoon Frog on the front of the bottle talking about whole grains. It is straight up cereal beer. Cut up some rails of State Fair churros and snort those bitches, you just smelled Baller Tits Abraxas.

Taste:

Pedestrian Ass: This carries that roast in a serious way and gives a deep char with some drying smoked malts, bakers chocolate, faint hints of clove in the middle and it finishes with this vegetable/pepper/mole sauce sort of thing that is interesting, but not especially inviting. I mean, most escorts can probably tell some crazy stories about trips to the clinic, but you dont want to spend more than an hour with them.

Rainmaker Version: Again, this is like a completely different beer. This is not like the Baldwins where one is kinda good and the other is totally shitty, it’s like Ron Howard and his weird ass brother, you can’t even believe these two beers are related. There is no real bourbon presence on this beer, but the cinnamon and sweet brown sugar comes raging in, there is a crackle to the spices and maybe that is the peppers in the subterfuge, it is hard to say. If you like Horchata and use a prepaid cell phone, you will probably like drinking this. The perfect beer to drink while standing in line for your EBT benefits.

Just sit in waiting, be patient, they will make more, if people have sense next year’s release will not be like this. PATIENCE MY PREDATORS.

Mouthfeelings:

Approachable Version: This is a pretty standard affair with the exception of a tingly heat on the backend from the peppers that gives the beer a sort of deadening sensation to the gumline and bottom lip, but nothing too insane across the board. This beer seriously reminds me of a Darkness variant, like if they gave it a spoiler or packed in some breadsticks to jazz it up. Ultimately, this is nothing too earth shattering and I would not trade for this again, not as long as Parabola is sitting on a shelf for way less urethra stretching.

Juicy J version: The mouthfeel has none of that peppery complexity and just keeps it hard in the paint with cinnabon stickiness, girl from the mall kiosk be peeping on your palate and your khaki stained teeth, wanting to flatiron your hair. There is no alcoholic heat on this, but there’s also no bourbon either. Maybe they adhere to the Foothill Brewing school of barrel aging where 16 weeks is PLENTY of time for that beer to get those complex nuances. At any rate, it made the cinnamon more pronounced. Some assholes will probably come in here like “THAT WAS THE VANILLA AND OAK INTEGRATION THAT MADE THE CINNAMON POSSIBLE-” or some shit, don’t care, it tastes like a bear claw. Fucking donut beer, Rogue eat your buttholes out.

Overall/Drinkability:

EBT Version: This is certainly more drinkable than the cinnamon monster, but at what cost? SimCity is a more “playable” game than Assassin’s Creed 3, but spending 8 hours of my life doing menial shit isn’t exactly a mark of greatness. Sure I could drink more of the regular version, but the BA version is interesting for the limited time I would want to have it. Crazy Parking Lot Sex versus Latter Day Saint Stability. Which do you want out of your bell pepper beer?

Gucci Mane Stacks: This version is heavier, stickier, has this inertia of spices and Big Red gum, and is overall not as approachable but if I had to take a pour of either, I would go for the BA version simply because I would be able to remember it more, point it out in a lineup, tell the jury where on the doll that it touched me. That sorta shit.

WINRAR: Barrel Aged Version is the overall winner.

You look at these bottles and think you are on some epic Golem shit, then you realize it was just steam the midwest blew into your lower colon

You know who the overall losers are? The people giving up shit like Norma, Churchills Finest Hour, and Nooner for bottles of BA Abraxas. If you have had Mexican Cake or Huna, you seriously don’t need to chase this one down, and def. dont give up any Loonz for it. It is my suspicion that the people who OMG FUCKING LOVED THIS BEEER!!1!! are the ones who had a 2oz pour while standing in line, checking into Untappd, or some other shit. If you sit down and drink a solid 10+oz of this beer, you will not want more. I LIVED THROUGH THIS.

Three Floyd’s Murda’D Out Stout, For When Being Baller Just Isn’t Enough and Your Beer Needs that Persian Appeal

March 4, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Three Floyd’s pushes the limits in two things: 1) hoppiness and 2) the elasticity of my anus for these extremely expensive releases. This beer was a ~800 bottle release priced at a whopping $50 a bottle. Some people might be cracking a Rare and shrugging their shoulders, but for the rest of us not living off of capital gains, $50 for a beer is a serious perineum pounder. Anyway, by way of history, almost 2 years ago, Baller Stout came out and it was $30, and beer nerds were acting like the 4 horsemen of the stoutpacalypse had arrived: a blend of Darkness, Dark Lord, Beer Geek Brunch, and Black Albert. So when they announced this, I knew shit was gonna get real. They did not mention that they aged each component beer in barrels prior to blending for 14 months then CPK “two in a bowled” that stout for this masterpiece. Enough fluffing, let’s get to full on stout ejaculation.

Some people be like “$50 rare bottle and you rock pours like that” yeah welcome to DDB, where we arent poor acorn dicks. Make yourself at home.

Three Floyds Brewing Co. & Brewpub
Indiana, United States
Style | ABV
Russian Imperial Stout | ABV ?

A: This has the slick oiliness like Parabola with a nice beige roast still hiding in the bubbles letting you know there is some unresolved shit going on in there. The pour is deep black but sadly I was expecting it to have a “flat black” sheen to it like those stupid assholes in West Hollywood who want people to know this is THEIR RANGE ROVER AND JUST BECAUSE THEIR DAD PAID FOR IT DOESNT MAKE IT HIS PARENT’S CAR. It is shiny black instead.

What’s that you say? $50 1 per person brewery release? IN THE MIDWEST? Well I never.

S: Holy hell this is a complex beer and you have to pull it apart like an onion, or the psoriasis on your testicles. I feel like that Dark Lord leads with its robed black foot first and supplies a deep black blast of sugar, turbinado sweetness, bakers chocolate and Hershey’s syrup all wrapped in a warm bourbon blankie straight from the dryer. You get this coffee pat on the back from Mikkeller, but fuck Mikkeller, the only reason you are hanging out with Beer Geek anything is because it is surrounded by a ton of hot stout chicks. Darkness finishes things out with a deep roasty dryness and this mallowfoam smell that just lingers like when you wonder how many Taco Bell items that you bought the night before.

T: This taste has the complexity of the above and is like Hungry Hungry Hippos just raping your tastes buds with cascading elbows of roast, then bourbon sweetness, then coffee acidity, and chocolate Stone Cold stunning the fuck out of every taste zone. It reminds me if you took the amazingness of Barrel Aged Dark Lord (any really) and they started tossing on body kits, rims, spoilers, and all kinds of extraneous shit. It is a bit sloppier in execution as a result, but it is genuinely every bit as good. I am so glad that this beer has flown so deeply under people’s respective radars. I guess that $50 price tag and the 1 per person was enough to pucker more than a few buttholes, BUT MY BUTTHOLE REMAINS UNPUCKERABLE.

Drink this stout, then go try a normal ass off shelf offering and be all like-

M: This is sticky on the teeth with residual sugars and stick malts but also slightly wafty from the bourbon and the bitter zones get this deep char, Slippy is just doing barrel rolls all day and doesn’t even need to be saved. I can’t accurately restate the mouthfeel without just putting the aforementioned adjectives in a tumble dryer, so fuck it, if you dont get it this might not be the right place for you.

D: This likely has an ABV above 13% abv and I would drink this shit all day long. No qualifier like “I meant during winter” or some bullshit, I will drink this before my job as a bus driver because everyone knows 1) bus drivers cant get DUIs and 2) no one can get a DUI while the sun is up. It is widely known. The cruelest jokes are always the best beers being the least accessible (INB4 Parabola assholes, I know, I know.) Now forget everything I just said, I dont want you ungrateful assholes ruining my chances at landing another one of these. If you have one, it was not even that good, I will send you some Knee Deep stuff for one. Get at me.

Sure it was $50 and super rare, but try to enjoy yourself at least.

NarratiVe: The life of a Chimera only seemed like a blast from the outside. Sure, you are fierce and amazing, aweinspiring at worst. But what about those other times? Try sharing the duality of identity with a series of united beasts. I was born a lion head attached to the body of a dragon, sharing an L1-L2 spinal segment with a goat head, and an unruly snake as a tail. You think I ever got to finish my memoirs with all those assholes constantly wanting to fly around, raid villages, slay King Cnut’s people, submerge scandinavian sea vessels, and fuck all else? Yeah, no rest to be had at all. The snake is diabetic and constantly complaining about our iron and glucose intake, I swear that fucking goat head just eats anything, peasant huts, cabbage farms; anything. Last week the dragon tried to use our penis to have sex with a Manticore. A FUCKING MANTICORE. Can you imagine the bush on that thing? Having a shared penis is bad enough but, you gotta draw the line somewhere. Sure, I am one piece of a fierce beast, but I have so much more complexity than outsiders ever imagine.

Peg’s Cantina RareR D.O.S., The Extra R Stands for “Rape”

January 7, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Before my sweaty virgin contingency of readers get all upset, I know rape jokes are not funny, I know the R stands for “rum”, but go ahead and try to land this in the trade forums: forced intercourse. 300ish growlers (500ml small penis swingtops) and 3 per person. At least it was better than the previous run of 25 whopping growlers, but hey, it is a top 100 beer so tickers gotta tick, flipping bricks, crushing up raw. If you are some uninitiated dry vagina who stumbled into this site and somehow read the Rare DOS review then get on your pimping and come back when you are good and ready.

Ironically, the regular rad Rare Dos was more RarerereR

A: I guess leaving the home state of Florida was a lackluster affair for this lil growler because it shows up with little fanfare and lazily spills an Exxon black out of the bottle, a nice Huna sheen to it, with a lil bit of cafe au lait pencil lead thin foam on top. It isn’t dirty, but it isn’t exactly clean either, kinda like the Vegas Strip at 4am.

Slaying top 100 walez, not learning foreign languages, not meeting interesting people. Living that beer dream.

S: This doesnt present that odd Rum aspect that other treatments had me accustomed to. This almost comes across as an entirely bourbon affair, you get mallow foam, coconut, a light caramel aspect on that Calvados tip, and a bit of that Sugar in the Raw that you never fucking use at coffee shops. There is a light chocolate and cocoa but those are cast as Inmate #3, supporting in the background, adding authenticity.

T: This has that same phenomenal balance of booze, chocolate, hershey’s syrup, slight roast but more sweetness from the rum notes. Again, if you are accustomed to the Rum Huna land, you will be confused as fuck when you enter this realm because it seriously is more like an amped up Czar Jack than some rummy endeavor. In classic top 100 form, I can’t really think of a direct analog to this because it really stands on its own with the residual sugars and novel pirate swagger (Carribean not Ethiopean.)

Pop that tiny growler, put on John Carpenter’s The Thing, and cool the fuck out.

M: This is stickier than something like say, Parabola, but doesn’t toe that Huna/Abyss line where you have to move that sticky black palm from your inner thigh, ruining the second half of Pearl Harbor for you. There is sheeting but then the residual sugars are kept in line by the Hueguenot force of clear alcohol, which honestly makes me wonder if this was more in the 13% realm. I ain’t to kinda WINE ASSHOLE, so who am I to say. Cabernets and shit.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable, if you happen to be some kinda of shipping magnate who can scoop up limited growler releases on the reg, lighting your cigars with Action Comics #1. If that is you, sure go ahead and drink away. For the rest of us, coal faced masses, pushing our gaunt faces to the window of Peg’s Cantina, hungering for that panegyric that will lighten our ticking hearts, we probably wont have this that often. Usually at this point, some bitter needledick chimes in about how good beer isn’t rare and how they are super stoked on their offshelf offerings, that’s fine, go drink your Storm King or whateverthefuck, let the real men discuss beer.

The average beer nerd will probably never try this in real life, but hey, beer nerds can always dream.

Narrative: They told me I could never do it, what with my having type II diabetes and bustling waistline, they just readily assume that I wouldn’t be a decent chimney sweep? That’s where they underestimated old Michael Jarvis, they didn’t know that I was born with superperceptive inner ear membranes that provide me with expcetional poise and balance. I can caress the roofline and tiles with fleeting agility as I pieroette and gracefully balance upon the brickwork of chimneys. Let’s see those dullards at the public house do that. I would love to see the fittest of their men compete against my 280 lbs frame as I amble the boards with Geckoesque grip and control. It is not about being the strongest, or the most memorable chiney sweep, it is about getting the job done. Post-victorian England isn’t going to unsoot itself and my poise and grace will win chimneys over one by one, if not for a lingering memory, for the sheer efficacy of my work and style. I dont need them to call the name of Michael Jarvis from the rooftops, the balance of my work is clamour enough upon the straining ceiling tiles.

dontdrinkbeer

Drinking beer, so you don't have to.

Category Archives: russian imperial stouts