Category Archives: stouts

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Big Sky Brewing Company, Ivan the Terrible, Large Scale Colonization of Siberia and this Domepiece

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I had wanted to track this beer down ever since I first started trading but I always got led off the path of Terribleness. Anyway, after I tried Old Bluehair I decided that people in Montana knew what the fuck that they were doing and sought out this gem. Cool story Hansel.

Ivan the Nuanced Coffeemonster is more apt, but less likely to unify modern Russia.

Big Sky Brewing Company, Ivan the Terrible, Russian Imperial Stout (duh) 10% abv

A: This beer has a nice slick cola look to it, a bit off the beaten path, like RC Cola. Nice carbonation, I mean, look above, more head than a goiter survivors support group.

This beer is strange, but ultimately very likeable. You root for it deep down, you want the chocolate to prevail.

S: The smell has all the old tricks you’d expect, cocoa, nice very understated booziness, and a dry roast coffee that has some dryness. Brownie batter, nom’s abound.

T: The taste expounds on the coffee and chocolate interplay and it’s like what an alcoholic baker would indulge himself with, all sticky with sweetness balanced by the pound of flesh of coffee presented. There’s a candy toffee note that carries this to more memorable levels. PROTIP: I drank a glass that was left out all night and IT WAS EVEN BETTER. Something about this beer being oxidized makes it even better. I dont know why, but if you are that decadent that you can waste expensive rare beers on science experiments, do that shit and stop bragging about it.

At first this beer seems like a bad decision, but it gets way better. Unlike this shitty tattoo.

M: This is where this beer is lacking. It almost feels like an imperial porter in the way the light permeates it easily and the coating is like the unsatisfactory job of some lazy ass Home Depot parking lot warriors. I dont want to suggest the malt bill should be boosted because then it would be a sticky mess, ho hum. First World Beer problems. Tsingtao drinkers dont know the shit that I go through. FEEL ME.

D: This is a mid-ranger in the drinkability section because the ABV will getcha, and the thin profile makes you want more so it balances out. You get your kid a car, but then dont pay for the first year of Community College. The world is right again. I don’t want more than a bottle of this, if that is considered restraint then Epicurus your ass on out of here, Stoics.

The epic debate. Do I want more darkness for a more substantial mouthfeel. Holy mixed metaphors, this discussion is going off the rai-

Narrative: Ivan looked down from his newspaper and shook his head in frustration, “THEY WONT USE THE GOD DAMN PORT I BUILT THEM AT NARVA!” His chancellor shook silently at the rage that he knew was forthcoming. Baltic goods kept pouring in, Toffee, Chocolate, Coffee: The Russians were gourmands despite being within perpetual starvation during the 16th century. “What must I do? Fine, if they wish to continue to oppose my chocolate blockades, I am just going to have to raze Kazan to the ground. THEIR IMPETUOUS NATURE MUST BE QUELLED.” Deep down Ivan was conflicted, he had a severe sweet tooth that he attempted to suppress, and a deep alcoholic nature that remained in constant remission. How ironic that he would die a peaceful death, the chocolate master of war passing away while dreaming of sweet toffee, passing his pawn with grave severity.

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Kern River Class V Stout, Pass Legislation to Make this an Official Blanket Alibi for 4 a.m. Dietary Decisions

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This stout is the beginning of shitshow, the preamble to a plastered filibuster, and prologue to a book written about 4am food you dont remember. The smoothest, most dangerous 8.5% abv you have ever encountered.

This is a stout ninja, swift as a river current. It will destroy you not unlike that movie Deliverance.

Class V Stout, Kern River Brew Co, 8.5% Imperial Stout

A: This is a beautiful stout. The pour looks almost identical to Coca-cola if it were served on nitro. It was fantastic tiny bubbles that conjoin into a huge thick impermeable head that just sets up blocks upon blocks of spider web strip malls of lacing, it is the Encino of municipal lacing. The color is deep and shiny cola, bit by bit light shines through to evidence a warm moderately thin mahogany body.

This beer is dangerous and makes me feel like I am a child again. You tell Kern River, Class V is not for kids.

S: There’s some coffee, a bit of turbinado sweetness, and the cola caramel that I noted earlier. The chocolate notes are faint and intertwined with a mild hop profile at the finish. It will sock you.

T: This is an incredibly light imperial stout and the flavor profile matches it accordingly. It begins with a mocha sweetness, imparts a watery tone in the middle and the swift closer is the coffee and mild hop finish. It is a three chamber legislation and flavor bills are passed immediately to the stomach congress for approval.

It feels like a throwback, but not in an ironic way, like a comforting pop punk blanket that lulls you to sleep gently.

M: This is a thin imperial stout, but it wouldn’t exactly be fair to call this a watery stout. The middle body is lacking in coating, and the mouthfeel has very low chewiness, but perhaps the calling to the Class V rapids, the swift swashy tides of the Kern River are supposed to be imagined? I can’t say but for a nimble swift stout, it works incredibly well. It presents its alcohol in such a precise masked way that the thin body only makes the ABV Trojan horse all the more deceiving.

D: This is one of the most drinkable stouts I have ever had. This is particularly in part with the rapidity that it lays the flavors out, packs them up and postures you for the next drink. It is a very swift transition of chocolatey warped tour sets. For those who appreciate the drawn out arena rock, this may be a bit too light of fare for your tastes. It takes the elements from Founders Breakfast stout and reduces the silkiness of the oat bill and trades it in for watery spurs to make it FASTER to drink, but not necessarily BETTER, if that makes sense.

It's a little disturbing how wasted this beer gets you with such a gentle finesse. I dont question it. However, the $5.49 price tag just makes this ridiculous.

Narrative: This was the worst work retreat that Jim Dimiri had ever been on. Initially it seemed par for the course, nice relaxing weekend with some spurious workshops to pad the tax writeoffs, but then, the real activity was announced. “Yes sirree, we see some serious flows with all the Cascadian runoff this time of year, particularly with the coffee and cocoa farmers strip farming the upper elevation, well, it’s a gusher.” His life vest was caked with thick viscous foamy water. The grains from the upper elevation coffee farms whizzed by and was dashed on the rocks. “RIVER RAFTING IS NOT A TEAM BUILDING EXERCISE! DAMNIT!” Jim cried to Terri, the file clerk who was gripping the starboard side of the raft, coughing up chocolatey river water. “OH SHI-” the raft capsized on some deep woody debris and he was sent headlong into the khaki colored water, refreshing but dangerous. In a moment, it was all over. Jim crawled to the bank of the river and looked back on the foaming rapids that he had just confronted. Human Resources would receive a strongly worded letter on Monday.

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Founder’s Canadian Breakfast Stout, Finally a breakfast for the completely irresponsible. Hey, no one told you to have kids.

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Another top 100 gem rolls in for your virtual tasting enjoyment. This beer came out a while back and everyone lost their shit and wanted the moon and the stars for it. 10,000 bottles later my hipstbeer sense remains intact, I had this when it was an unlabeled hand bottle. CBS was cooler when it was underground.

Like the other CBS, except less shitty crime dramas and this is actually enjoyable.

Founders Canadian Breakfast Stout, 9.3%

A: nice brown mahogany tones, not exceptionally thick but a welcoming nice tiny bubbles. It just looks like a chill homie, the dude you talk to in the bathroom line, that sweet girl who tells you who does her hair. Sweet and deep in scope. LIKE COPERNICUS BEST SYSTEM. C…B…

This beer was expensive and hard to find for a while. Allow me to locate a fuck to give.

S: amazing maple sweetness, nice sticky chocolate, amazing waft, it’s like boning a maple syrup clown in an ihop, except the clown is a ford model and its not sex, it is just SMELLING.

T: toffee, coffee, sticky vanilla notes, it has a great maple syrup sweetness to it that gives a great caramel and brown sugar resonance. The exhaling waft has a nice dry hint of espresso. Give old molasses granny a smooch, get all up in it, she just had chocolate donuts, mmm maple bars, its sweet and dirty but so ri- wait what were we talking about? Oh yeah, beers and shit.

How long do you think I can post this before I get a takedown notice? I will keep you POSTED.

M: This hits just the right mark with me. They took the Founders Breakfast Stout, the oats and the silkiness, and boosted the ABV just a bit and balanced it out even further with amazing sweet notes that were absent in the breakfast stout. All around, just incredibly drinkable and balanced.

D: This is the most drinkable stout that I have ever had. The cruel irony is that it is the least accessible stout that I have ever had, therefore, making it not drinkable. It has this awesome slick coating to the middle that isn’t too heavy and doesn’t weigh the palate down. It doesn’t make you ruminate over the last sip and instead ops for a cleaner oilier finish that beckons for the next taste. This is an incredible stout and worthy of the hype.

For a while this beer was the #1 stout in my eyes. Things change.

Narrative: Noble Clifford Oatshire looked out over his majestic estate of rolling maple trees and moose farms. “It seems so simple doesn’t it Jarvis?” “Sir?” “The maple syrup business, being born into an unshakeable empire of saccharine sweet breakfast commodities.” He ruminated while pressing his hand idly against the antique French-Canadian glass. “I- I don’t follow sir.” “Jarvis what I am asking is simple, all of this, the basset hounds, the rich gourmand palate that I have acquired, the first edition tomes bound in supple calf skin, to what do I owe this?” “Well, I suppose your father master Cliff?” Clifford exhaled and looked around at the imposing bookcases and portraits of his ancestors, each painted upon a 12 foot canvas. “Jarvis, who supports YM Magazine?” “Well, children, eh, that is to say, insecure girls, pre-women I suppose?” “And should they somehow slip away, who would buy YM Magazine then?” “Eh well, pedophiles and sexual deviants I suppose” Clifford took a sip of his bold cup of coffee and stirred his oatmeal demonstratively. “AND WHAT OF MAPLE SYRUP JARVIS? Will people need our condiment graces forever?” He was a powerful slick orator, with passion and a sweet disposition. “I only hope that we have done as much for the breakfast world as it has done for us.” He watched a mountie clip clop away into the distance across the vast Canadian tundra.

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Dogfish Head World Wide Stout, He’s Got the Whole World, In His Liver.

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Happy New Year. Here’s the perfect beer to read about while you feel like shit.

This is a perfect treat for those who shy away from excess and seek moderate and balanced libation. Psyche.

I am pretty sure that this isn't WWS, but, after drinking it, I have absolutely no recollection.

Dogfishead Worldwide Stout 18% abv, Imperial Stout

A: Liquid ink, with an angry pallour. I am unsure if ink can be pissed off, but I feel like the slight bubbles are mocking me but they rise slowly and linger as if they dont care in their murky depths. There’s some carbonation but it is spiteful in nature. It doesn’t want to be here, it needs another 5 years of rest but here I am, bothering it and shit.

S: It is like a cup of melted licorice and coffee with a soysauce kicker adding an impartial dryness. it feels like the negligent judge from the karate kid movies is just letting me get destroyed sip after sip without regard. There’s a crazy heat to the nose that isn’t bad, just feels like the colors of a monarch butterfly, I shouldn’t be going after this.

I couldn't imagine trying to get anything done after a couple of these merkers.

T: My mouth basically goes through a blue phase and 14 year old Korn fans invade with murky aggression. Tons of coffee that bodyslams the toffee notes that gets leg locked by the drying chocolate. It is summerslam 2011 in your bitter zones and there can be only one. I end up tapping out, I can’t hang with this level of coffee/cocoa abuse. There’s a nice waft of heat and sweet dryness to level off the experience. Shit was so cash.

M: Again, it is absurd and so over the top that the coating takes centerstage. It sets up some good old fashion 19th century imperialism and your molars are rife with its grasp. Be prepared to tell your friends about it and exhale in their face and let them enjoy the magic firstnose. This is the perfect beer if you want to look and smell like a negligent ass parent, great for pre-soccer game festivities for sure.

The world becomes a dangerous place with the World Wide Stout.

D: Absolute failure. No one can drink more than one of these if only on a dare or some fraternal rite of passage. I cannot imagine someone finishing one of these and hankering for another. The entire experience is a chocolate iron maiden with pin and needles just crushing you with inky maltiness.

Narrative: Guillermo had been a janitor at Falling Springs high school for over 13 years, but he held a harrowing secret. He was the darkest individual ever conceived, born with a curse. While the students saw a wayward janitor, this gentleman was born with the curse of humor. You see while he observed the students in their rakish behavior his mind constantly crafted the funniest jokes ever conceived. “Please just, dont dump the chocolate milk in the lockers…ok thank you…” His protestations were fallow seeds cast on infertile ground. No one wanted him there but deep inside he knew his dark secret, internally crafting the most majestic jokes ever, but not sharing him. That was the source of his evil, entirely depriving others of inherent joy. Guillermo was uncaring in his turpentine dispensation. He grit his teeth to suppress the complex pun he crafted and mopped the chocolate milk from the adolescent crime scene.

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Cigar City Brewing, Either/Or, Soren Kierkegaard is So Pissed Rite Now Guize.

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Oh I get it, Either and Or are the same beer, existential paradigm shift FOR MAXIMUM LULZ!

Cigar City Brewing, 11% abv Black Ale

This should just calls itself a stout and stop lying to its parents. It has a nice malty chocolate smokiness to it with a fantastic clean finish. I really like the tobacco notes within the malt. The beer stole some notes from Schelling’s Philosophy of Revelation and it seems like Either/Or is brewed with the one recipe Soren Kierkegaard used in the mid-1800’s. You know? It’s like on one hand we have a beer from Florida, renowned for hedonism, then we have the rest of the country, inclined to careful reflection. BUT I STILL WANT TO MASH ON THIS. An inherent dichotomy presents itself.

I would def. recommend picking this up and sharing it with some of your hippy friends and watch the metaphysical arguments spin out of control.

this beer didn't solve Problem of Evil inherent in existence, NOT EVEN MAD THO.

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Three Floyd’s Bourbon Barrel Vanilla Bean Aged Dark Lord, The Hnngs are substantial

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Even while sweet and vanilla, this is still the darkest of lords.

Three Floyd’s Vanilla Aged Dark Lord, 15% abv Imperial Stout

A: The appearance is a deep murky dark brown with wispy light carbonation, but again, I didn’t obtain this in the most legitimate manner, so that likely has something to do with it. The booziness it huge and coats in clear angry strands.

S: There is an incredible vanilla sweetness like a fresh macaroon or vanilla frap. Amazing chocolate and coffee notes support the back end, there’s a waft of huge heat to this that stings the nostrils with a deep heat.

This picture is the complete opposite of Vanilla Dark Lord: smooth, hot, sweet, interesting.

T: The initial taste is incredibly sweet with intense vanilla. The vanilla integrates seamlessly and the sweetness isn’t cloying like the normal Darklord. It is a complete improvement on the old formula. Why in the world that they don’t bottle this is beyond me. There is an amazing coffee and burnt chocolate taste to this beer that just lingers on and on. It like a kiss from an eskimo, who somehow has coffee and chocolate with him.

M: The mouthfeel is like the old school Darklord with an intense heat to it, sticky coating, and lasting sweetness that inherits your mouth in fee simple. It isn’t going anywhere any time soon. This is a good thing since the bold mouthfeel is incredible and welcome just nestled in my molars. My dentist doesn’t approve but HE IS NOT THE BOSS OF ME.

You just wish every beer could be like this beer.

D: Oddly, for a crazy 15% abv stout, this is somehow drinkable. I wish that I had a huge serving of this amazing rare beer, but I dont have the means to perpetually land this crazy beast. I love the sweet heat of this and can only look at Vanilla Darklord as he speeds away with his hand pressed against the back window of the stationwagon as it speeds away, away from my tiny heart.

Narrative: I can’t even write a narrative because my maltboner is at full attenuation. This is insanely good and top 10 stout for sures.

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Maine Beer Company, Mean Old Tom, Uncle Thomas Was A Grouchy Jerk

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As you guys may know, Maine Beer Company has exceeded its allotment of fucking around and seems to have none to spare as of late. Zoe, Peeper, and Lunch rocked faces and now we take this new offering out for a spin. A weak vanilla stout to see if it has the legs to honor its environmental cause.

Mean Old Tom, Meanest Tom in the Whole Damn Tom, Meaner than a Junkyard Tom

Maine Beer Company, Mean Old Tom Stout, 6.5% abv

A: this has a distinct single stout look to it, a stripped down badass Lotus Elise sort of panache that makes you long for more horsepower, but secretly you’re confident you wont need it. It’s black, but not overpowering, like Don Cheadle, oh shit toeing the line with that simile. Nice white foam that generously cascades from the bottle conditioning. Also they donate 1% of all proceeds to a series of noble charities so I feel kinda like a dick sitting here and drinking this and not doing more but, donaters gonna donate.

Not a massive stout, but you appreciate the little charge it provides, attraction even.

S: The smell has a mild Peet’s coffee feel to it, but with a nice sticky vanilla aftersweetness to it. This could teach Urca’s vanilla trainwreck a thing or two about balance. It is gentle and reminds me of the old days, when Stouts were mild and gentle and not 15% anal rampagers and you didn’t have to eat an entire loaf of hawaiian rolls to prepare to taste them. Thems the days.

T: This beer is a gentle coffee pixie with a nice light touch of vanilla. The entire execution is in line with the whole Maine Beer Company profile wherein the beer is amazing but its like the hot girl in overalls with the ponytail. You know its amazing and beautiful, you’ve just been conditioned improperly. You feel me?

I want to go back in time and have this beer again, but, I am pretty sure my safety would not be assured.

M: It is thin and watery but not in a bad way. This is likely exactly how this beer should taste and I respect it for it. I can drink several and that’s an amazing quality. I think drinking a bunch of huge imperial stouts has made me a sad panda and now I have to pick up the piece. Jeez louise.

D: This is a normal stout, non imperial, non barrel aged and, whenever I have one of these beers these days it is like someone played a trick on me. I dont know where the rest of the beer went and, as a result of my own gluttony, this is incredible and I killed it fast, like it straight up owed me money. You know how it goes, drink a normal stout once, shame on me, etc.

I got this as an extra, I want more, but I feel like I am being ridiculed for my desires. This makes me self-conscious. Sheesh.

Narrative: Tom knew there was more than just this sticky old vanilla bean refinery. He has dreams, aspirations. He didn’t just want to be that asshole uncle to his bratty brother’s kids. But hey, that’s how they saw poor Tom. He thought Oracle stock was a solid gift for an 11 year old girl’s birthday party. That was just the composition of his character. The children disliked his creaky old apartment with the plastic wrapped furniture, but, those children have to learn the value of thrift. It arguably wasn’t his place to strike children that were not his own, but they had to learn not to overcook Pizza Pockets and it surely would not be at the expense of his new microwave. Maribel hated coupon cutting while Tom babysat them but, as they deftly learned, every day was certainly not Disneyland, despite expectations of same. The crimson asscheeks of relatives distanced them from Mean Old Tom, but, someday, a strange woman with incredibly low self esteem would put up with his behavior and help him assemble a model train town worthy of great distinction.

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Olde Hickory Event Horizon Imperial Stout, EVENTFUL THINGS ABOUT THIS HOLIDAY SEASON.

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My Horizon has some sick events on it. Lawrence Fishburn will probably be there.

Olde Hickory, Event Horizon 2010, 8.5% Barrel Aged Imperial Stout

A: This has a deep hateful color to it that cascades in a murky mess out of the bottle. A hard pour seems to make it angrier and a huge tan head subsides into pencil shavings color. It leaves spotty lacing that looks like those plants in Ursula’s cavern. The beer itself is darker than Goofy’s taint. Disney references abound.

S: Huge sticky maple syrupy sweetness subsides into a burnt bakers chocolate and coffee dryness. The mild heat smell is welcoming, like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. So far so good, this beer impresses on all levels.

Look at this beer. This beer is bad ass.

T: It has a great prickly bourbon tingle to the front taste that establishes a nice booziness that isn’t exactly hot, just sweet and smoothe. Then like a dapper southern gentleman, the chair is pulled back and chocolate enters with a bouquet of toffee and coffee, much to the entertainment of your palate. Very balanced in execution and feels like a halfway home between Goose Island Rare and Canadian Breakfast Stout.

M: The mouthfeel is a bit lighter than I was expecting but still a solid medium coating which does not disappoint. The coffee doesn’t overpower and the bourbon and sweetness lingers. The honey notes come through more as a maple syrup I would assume due to the barrel but who knows, it just works.

I can't even be critical of this old gem.

D: With each refreshing sip I look sadly to my glass and wish that this beer wasn’t so hard to come by. It is certainly worthy of the hype and should be far higher on the Top 100 list in my opinion. This is a world class beer that is not only delicious but incredibly session able. I cant see this getting any better over time because it is already mellow, boozy, and delicious. The relatively lower ABV makes it a more relaxed, incredibly drinkable imperial stout and it is all the better as a result.

Narrative: This confidence scheme wasn’t going as planned. Dirk “Oilcan” Murkerson had the whole thing planned to a “T” but things started to unravel bit by bit. His dolt of a partner, Sitcky Bittles, was supposed to walk into the jewelry store and say that he has lost his obsidian diamond, and offer a huge standing reward for it. Oilcan walks in with a fake black diamond and pawns it for thousands, they both get away clean in the old struggle buggy. Simple. The darkness in both of their hearts mirrored in the balanced and smooth plan down to the execution, if not for that bumbling sweet confidence man, Bittles. “Eh old Oilcan, how was I sapposed to know that the diamond was a legit diamond from the boy’s stash? Cahmannn Oilcan!” Bittles pleaded entreatingly chewing the stub of his gnarled cigar nervously. “I shall tell you what you shall do, consult the provisions of your offer, offer your own indemnity to obtain the reward yourself, while hedging the item you pawned within the structure of the ombundsman’s gambit.” BY GUMMIT, Old Oilcan had done it again and gotten the boys out of a sticky fix! You can say what you want about his dark velvet suit, but his dapper demeanor won even the coldest hearts over.

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Stone Belgo Anise Russian Imperial Stout, the notorious “Worst Stone Beer Ever Made” culprit.

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Good and plenty's burning holes in my face.

A while back I caused a stir when I asked people their least favorite beer of 2011, I feel that this beer was the overwhelming winner, although I still feel that the Mikkeller Peat Barrel Black Hole nightmare was the worst, ho hum, here you go.

Stone Belgo Anise Imperial Russian Stout 10.6% abv

A: Deep motor oil black with no light opaque tones, not the deepest black I have seen but the coating lets you know that it has a huge malt to it. Mocha colored head with lacing that sticks to the glass. So far so good, now for the smell-

S: The anise is light and reminiscent of a sweeter licorice like a box of good and plentys. There is chocolate and some cocoa dryness to it. it’s like the lovely Stone IRS with an angry dark demon living inside of it. Why did this interloping licorice jerk have to show up? Many tears are shed into Hello Kitty diaries over this mishap.

Not even hipster excuses can make anise palatable.

T: The licorice is present in a strange resonant way. It imparts a sweetness with the Belgian sugar at the front that is really present and then rides the palate not unlike Ginuwine’s pony throughout. The coffee supports the tail end of it and the chocolate notes are suspiciously absent.

M: The mouthfeel isn’t as thick as I was bracing myself for and it is a better beer as a result. The dryness from all of the complex herbal notes really makes this interesting and crisp. It feels like an imperial black ale with all the hops and grassy notes happening but the complexity is certainly welcome. I cannot imagine how they are breaking even on such an exceptional beer for $5.99 a bottle.

So I didn't like the anise, come at me bro.

D: This is incredibly drinkable, and not in a cop out “for an imperial stout” sort of way, it is just flat out good. The abv is there, the taste supports it, it isn’t overly filling, you can put it away without chewing the inside of your mouth off due to dryness. Just a total package present in a ridiculous inexpensive format. As a caveat, everything that I enjoy about this beer is present in the Stone IRS in a better way, this beer is only redeemed because it is technically a Stone IRS at heart. The anise is horrible.

Narrative: “Rinse, gargle, spit.” The adolescents that visit Raven Perchmoor D.D.S.’s “Bastion of Oral Hygenicide” never really knew what they were in for. The Misfits played nonstop at levels that were uncomfortable even for 13 year old discretion. “And from when thine recalcitrant dental alignment was once begot, now BEGONE!” Dr. Perchmoor chanted as he tightened the bands deftly on the aching face of a My Chemical Romance fan. Some would consider his practice unorthodox, notwithstanding the gargoyles and dry ice buckets bubbles upon entry. However, he did accept HMO insurance and his work was nothing short of amazing. “And you are absolutely sure the ZOOM whitening is your choice? To cast out the vilest intentions of foul stains and the reproach of plaque and murky taint?” “Uh…yes?” He threw the oversized switch and watched the laser burn away the darkness, much to the chagrin of the macabre dentist.

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The Bruery Tart of Darkness, Uh oh, more puns from the Bruery.

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Joseph Conrad said there'd be puns like this.

Bruery Tart of Darkness Sour Stout, 5.5% abv

A: It has a deep black hue with cola colors at the edges. Mild carbonation with tiny bubbles and no lacing. Put that Marciano dress away, nothing to get all Anne Klein over, just an average outing.

S: Some malt but mostly sweet dark grapes with souring and vinegar notes. The last finish has a tiny bit of cocoa but the vinous notes override. It’s like a blacksploitation film set in a vineyard, strange but you enjoy it.

It is lighthearted but still menacing, like this stupid asshole.

T: What a crazy merging venn diagram. It initially starts out with a huge tart almost gueze sourness to it. There are notes of tannins, grape skins, and sour black cherries. The final taste has this transition chocolate maltiness to it. It feels like when a Transformer goes from something bizarre like a bidet into a crazy cyborg.

M: The mouthfeel is nothing like the traditional stout in that it imparts a huge dryness and has none of the coating that you traditionally associate with a non-imperial stout. It performs so strong in the tart category the stout shows up brazenly at the end of each sip. Again, just a really strange finish overall.

It feels high class, but strangely approachable.

D: This feels like eating ahi tuna and ice cream concurrently. There is a huge enjoyability to it, however, the fact that it straddles two divergent styles makes it sacrifice a purely drinkable experience. However, this might just be me being curmudgeonous and oppositional to change.

Narrative: Walter Chambers wasn’t the best pharmacy technician. He wasn’t the best mortician either. Somehow it was his relentless work ethic that kept him powering through both occupations day in and day out. After a solid 3 hours of sleep, he would saunter in, smelling of formaldehyde, dark circles under his eyes. “Yeah, car…car problems and…so did we get that Abilify shipment come in?” His dark wrinkled suit had strange stringent notes that wafted through the CVS pharmacy. “WALTER!” He snapped out of a brief nap and realized that he could see his breath in the ice cold body preparation room. “Walter, I told you to prep the gauze wrap and you go off for a sno-” Walter slipped back into blackness.