Them trade boards sure do move swiftly. One moment every single person in the game is pulling their labias lamenting over being unable to land the newest and hottest, next minute, that same bottle is being packed together with the other previously hyped beers to land next weeks newest whale.

This shit don’t make no sense.

Well for context, during the second week of August, this bottle was a complete bitch to land. Everyone waited to land this distributed/1000ish bottle release and turns out everyone wanted the same fucking thing: this pappy stout that no one could live without. Until KBBS came along. Until Westly came along. Until Gerbil Cum was bottled. Ad infinitum.

Anyway, let’s see if we can hit the T-G spot in today’s review.

Excessive demonstrative pours, attention seeking bullshit, demonstrating dominance with a modicum of no friends and foreveralone.

Toppling Goliath Brewing, Decorah Iowa
13% abv
Imperial Stout

A: This has some heft to the pour and sheets the hell out of my 1L mug with frothy mocha foam, like a filthy barista hook session. It is midnight black and sits somewhere in between BCBS and Huna in massive coating and heft to the body. It’s admittedly a very attractive looking imperial stout, menacing and not contributing any fucks. They went HAM on this one and it shows. Part of me wants to point to the excessively flabby body and pull the under attenuation card, but it just isn’t that. It’s just a fucking huge beer in the way Double Black flexes hard and doesn’t concern itself with your opinion.

Making SARA and Midwest tickers mad concurrently is a shitstorm of passive aggressive private conversations you’ll probably never see. BUT OH MAN JUST IMAGINE.

S: This is hands down the most phenomenal part of this beer and I could sit here huffing this like a hobo with a spraypaint can in front of a Planned Parenthood. You get massive caramel, bakers chocolate, macaroon, vanilla, bourbon soaked raisins, Hershey bar, and closes with a sort of S’more aspect without being cloying. Just fantastic top to bottom. I hate writing these reviews because how do you eke out the yuks and punchlines when it is this well done? No one wants to read some stroke session to sugar water, what’s the fun in beating off to that? The Iowa kids finally got the comeuppance they desired for so long with this one, and no butthole is going to remain unprolapsed in acquiring one, apparently.

Hard as fuqqq in the beer scene, hit up my tasting, ill be wearing Monarchy Jeans and stunting on ex-bandos.

T: This presents itself like an coked up Parabola, grinding its bourbon soaked maw over the corpse of a choclatier with tenacity. It is best enjoyed around that 60 degree mark to let that classic pappy decadence settle in, marshmellow and toffee cascading, each stout fleshlight session more satisfying than the last. I did have an issue with the residual sweetness that was begging for a roasty father figure to show it how to play catch and not prance around twirling the cocoa baton. It became a touch cloying and this aspect would keep it from absolute mind blowing status and relegates the bottle to the old “please share” section, which shouldn’t necessarily follow every god tier stout. I could drink 2009 BT by myself and still go to my dietician head held high, however, I would be hesitant to drink this without my life coach present. I have a lot of things going on right now.

M: Again, the flabby muddiness to the mouthfeel is excessive, no doubt, however it serves as a fantastic playing field to showcase the sweet and boozy aspects bumpin and grinding like a slow jam. If you are new in the stout game and you JUST FKN LOVEEEE THICKNESS BROOO OH MAN LOOK HOW FUCKN TOUGH I AM, then this will present itself like Huna and Abyss with those residual sugars and unfermented aspects that you will love. If you fall closer to the Czar Jack, Central Waters sort of preference, this will seem unfocused and brash in execution. Either way, someone is getting their nips twisted.

I would wrek this beer again.

D: I could put down a whole bottle of this, I can also play Alpha Centauri for 9 hours straight and leave my children in the care of a recent parolee. CAN doesn’t always imply an imperative statement. Most people will split this 19 ways to pump their shaft, accumulate UNTAPPD toasts and accolades in a midwest backyard. I don’t roll like that, so perhaps my utility is skewed. This is certainly a very nice beer, but the cost of entry is wildly prohibitive and I couldn’t in clear conscience honestly tell you that you NEED TO TRY THIS SHIT OTHERWISE YOUR BEER NUTSACK SHRIVELS UP. It’s a very good stout and marginally better than BCBS and Parabola, but the law of diminishing returns will certainly keep me away from this beer in the future. I usually rip on the armchair ticker dipshits who pipe up with “WHY TRAED GOOD BEERS WHEN I CAN JUST DRINK BCBS” with that tired yarn, but my asshole feels like a gaping barrel of raked up leaves after landing this, so the experience becomes lightly TAINTED. Perineum jokes, got them on lock.

I #YOLOed this beer so hard, huge pour, so fukin cool, mad CLASS