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OWA Brewery, Ume Lambic, Just When you Thought I was PLUM OUT of Lambic Reviews

On this one episode of Tailspin, Kid Cloudkicker jumps out of a plane with a bag of table salt and pours it into the clouds. The result is that it starts raining due to a chemical reaction with the salt and the cumulus clouds.

I don’t know how to science but, in today’s review I am going to make it rain on these tickers with a 100 bottle lambic release from the Pajizzzotenland.

YMCMB MAYBACH MUSIC MUSTARDONTHEBEAT.

Gotta have some srs plums to go after obscure Japanese lambic.

Gotta have some srs plums to go after obscure Japanese lambic.

OWA Brewery SPRL
Brewed at Brouwerij De Troch
Style: Lambic Style – Fruit
Bruxelles, Belgium
5.5% Abv

100 bottle release

A: This beer presents with a bit darker hue than I anticipated but also doesn’t really have any fuschia or magenta from the ume tannins- OH WAIT, that’s probably because ume looks like this you ignorant fuck:

peach pears plums I am inches

peach pears plums I am inches

so the carb comes out in soapy bubbles you could count individually and rises up to an eggshell collar that subsides pretty quickly but, nothing too apeshit, all things considered. There is insubstantial lacing and the legs are watery with minimal cling. The center of this beer is very inviting, got that amber meets wulfenite sort of glow to it. Google wulfenite and leave me the fuck alone.

Time for a trip to Japan or...Belgium. wait fuk

Time for a trip to Japan or…Belgium. wait fuk

S: This is a tasty treat for the old face holes. At the outset you get a light sweetness like lemon meringue that subsides into a citrus acidity akin to a tangelo, there is a touch of musk and cheesiness that is almost like topsoil/silt, it closes with a zesty Sierra mist lime that is ultra inviting. It’s like when the woman is all on them satin sheets running her hand in a small circle and YOU WAKE UP ON THE METRO WITH A VISIBLE ERECTION OH GOD DAMN IT.

T: This takes the foregoing Sprite and tangerine aspects and ratchets them up to levels that can only be described as “mid to extremely trill.” The first swallow is a 160 bpm trap beat that cascades sweet, brackish, then tart in those waves. You get this opener kinda similar to lime lucas, if you grew up in a Hispanic neighborhood. It subsides into a sweet honeysuckle and grapefruit pith bitterness. Finally the closer comes out and it tightens up the game with a sort of “aged Printemps” sort of lemon-lime feel to it. It is never exceedingly sweet, and remains drinkably tart, yet has this bitterness like citrus rind to keep everyone in check. It could use a touch more from the attic fairy, but I imagine that will come with time, as will I.

The malts are restrained and take on a new, equally amazing form

The malts are restrained and take on a new, equally amazing form

M: This has a bit more heft than I would want out of a fruited lambic, but never drags deep into that honey coating too aggressively. It is dry but balanced by a light sweetness along the gumline that combos into the next sip like Glacius. Alright people complain my references are too obscure, you want to know who the fuck Glacius is?

There you go. That's Glacius, do you even Killer Instinct?

There you go. That’s Glacius, do you even Killer Instinct?

He is excellent at ground-air combos. Alright can we get back to the fucking review? Ok so take that lemon lime and add a bit of acidity, not much, but say in the realm of a young 3F Kriek, just enough to keep the blue vein pumping. It is fully satisfying.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable with the caveat that you keep it under 55 degrees. The honey and sweet aspects closer to room temp make the sweetness a bit heavy handed when it gets warm but, what the fuck is wrong with you, letting 100 bottle Japanese lambics get all hot you insensitive asshole? All in all, a very good lambic likely unlike any other offerings you have tried. I guess you could mix 2006 Doesjel with 2006 Printemps and get a similar, less bright execution. In fact, go do that, report back to me. I posted a pic of this in a Facebook beer group all warming up my rotator cuff thinking I was about to serve up a backdoor breaking ball on some tickers. People had zero fucks to spare, too bust doling out Likes for KBS pictures. But that is part of the reason why you are here, and not fingering your dickhole talking to some anti-In Bev noob. We have the same issues. The type of beer drinkers who seek out this type of shit are not the ones who review Hopslam by reading the label in present progressive tense “”getting hoppy, getting malts, getting yeast, getting water, getting Bell’s, getting Michigan. getting…a guy with a hop cone on him…getting barcode…”

You expect some naughty funk but get some citrus loving instead.

You expect some naughty funk but get some citrus loving instead.

Narrative: Tetsuo Otomo was the most esteemed botanist in all of Kyoto and his scientific renown brought inquiries from across the globe. Upon the behest of the European Union, Mr. Otomo traveled to the Senne Valley to analyze the ground-water table and its effects on the local fauna. “Hmm…ish a nooo good,” he noted in a borderline offensive accent “glound tabre has too much a sart! Need nitrogen frixation, lower minelal crontent.” The group of Belgian geologists nodded and took copious notes. Mr. Otomo returned to Brussels shortly thereafter and engineered a super strain of Japanese Plum that would convert the atmospheric nitrogen into ammonia at an alarming rate. The process drastically boosted the presence of the diazotrophs, creating a super flora in the classic valley. Soon even the mildest glass of kolsch exposed to the air became an acidic wild ale, almost instantly. German tourists brought kegs and kegs of tepid wit biers over in droves to contaminate and vastly improve their pedestrian ales. Tetsuo had solved a problem with plums, but created a larger one by way of ignorant assholes from abroad.

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

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

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

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

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

Three Floyds Brewing Co. & Brewpub
Indiana, United States

Belgian Strong Pale Ale | 15.00% ABV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This shit will drop bombs on other fruited sours

This shit will drop bombs on other fruited sours

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

some people will do horrible things for that sweet DDG nectar

some people will do horrible things for that sweet DDG nectar

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

KBS offers. lel.

KBS offers. lel.

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

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

DDG: you prolly dont even get it

DDG: you prolly dont even get it

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

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De Dolle Stille Nacht Riserva 2010, Sippin them Off-Vintage White Whales Tryna Flex

Alright, everyone knows that the 2000 vintage is the testicle drainer that everyone loses their shit over. But what about the equally alluring NEW vintage? There were all kinds of rumors about how many bottles actually made it stateside, I heard anywhere from 380 to 1100. Shelton be flipping bricks of that raw uncut so it wouldn’t surprise me on either front. This aint even stepped on, 25 months in a barrel making North Carolina breweries shake their heads in disdain.

Twisting my nips and turning co2 knobs.  Wait wut

Twisting my nips and turning co2 knobs. Wait wut

Brouwerij De Dolle Brouwers visit their website
Belgium
Belgian Strong Pale Ale | 12.00% ABV

A: People complained like little Delta Gammas when they pour this out about the lack of carb but to be fair, it was in a barrel for 2+ years and it is 12% abv, I wasnt expecting some crazy bubbly gusher out of this decadent bitch. This is penny amber and deep copper notes at the center with a nice radiance to it. No lacing, no sticky bubbles, just a lil prejizz wisps on the collar. This isn’t your first time.

SNR10 ahwww shyttt mad trill sonnn, lemmie get my shitty Artful Dodger hoodie and sip a 1oz pour CIRCERONE BEER PROFESSIONAL WERKIN back up BJCP MAD TRILL

SNR10 ahwww shyttt mad trill sonnn, lemmie get my shitty Artful Dodger hoodie and sip a 1oz pour CIRCERONE BEER PROFESSIONAL WERKIN back up BJCP MAD TRILL

S: If you walked into this shit expecting a belgian strong, guess again motherfucker. This is deep cherry, oak, vines, merlot, red grape, tannins, fruit by the foot, and some sherry wafts on the backend giving some sweet dryness. Your aunt has been sipping on that cherry cordial liqueur and wants an open mouth kiss, for old times sake. Those 2 years in the barrel made this asshole a heartless sour wrapped in vines and you know deep down that barleywine-esque maltiness is there, but too much time in the hole made this Virgil a product of Bordeaux hell.

T: This follows the nose pretty congruently and lends some tannins to the malty base but at higher temps you get a sort of english barleywine aspect to it with some toffee and caramel in the finish. However, the cherry ring pop and red wine continues to run the yard, shanking malty inmates with pieces of sharpened oak. Dont fuck around with this beer, hold its outturned pocket and know your role.

That feel when you pop crazy bottles and have nothing to talk about in the elevator on Mondays.

That feel when you pop crazy bottles and have nothing to talk about in the elevator on Mondays.

M: This is initially sweet and sticky from the cherry and malty base beer but then the tannins and oak cause a mouthriot and people start throwing dry mattresses over the railing drying shit out pretty quickly. Riot control washes it away clean but you know that dryness is coming back after the cherry aspects leave. The ABV is pretty well integrated but it is there polishing a fat Cabernet nightstick ready to pound the fuck out of any bitter zones that get out of line.

D: This is drinkable but a whole bottle for lunch on a Tuesday was a bit cloying after it warms a bit. Hey here is a crazy idea, maybe you should fucking share this bottle instead of being a greedy fuck? Yeah, I know. I would get down on this again but maybe spread the love around a bit next time. I liked it but didn’t fall in love with it and the complexity took a backseat to cherries and port near the end. No regrets/10, would bang again raw dog double lover no rubber on that reservoir tip.

BEER REVIEWS? Psh I have been doing those sence lyke 2011!!1!!

BEER REVIEWS? Psh I have been doing those sence lyke 2011!!1!!

Narrative: “Well hey hey hey fellas!” Chip Merken piped out loudly while deftly handling his pitchfork. “Ah can it Chip, we can’t take it on harvest day.” Harvest day was hard and long, with an oppressive sun. Chip was always a crisp jolly individual who could somehow out-harvest the others, and outsow his colleagues at planting time. He popped a cherry into his mouth and thought up another upbeat tune and began to rap on a piece of oak. “Toot doot dee do da dee dee daaa” he whistled some antiquated tune to himself, smiling in between breaths. “COME ON, DAMNIT CHIP!” One co-worker threw his rake down in anger. “Here we are trying to harvest some damn wheat and instead we have you all up in our heads with your old show tunes and knock knock jokes, don’t none of that make this any sooner!” Chip’s smile slowly faded and he looked down at his glistening pitchfork, “don’t let them get sore at you old Chip, don’t let what happened before ever happen again,” the darkness in his heart burned. “Well sure fellas! I will go get the reaper, I GUESS!” The reaper indeed young Chip, the reaper indeed.

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2011 Horal’s Oude Gueuze Megablend, Composition Fallacy Pounding up in them Guts

I won the fuck out of this trade. I sent a couple of bottles of my homebrewed persimmon Lambic Pediobear and got this amazing beer in return. Etan hooked me up huge with this one, super serious.

For the uninitiated, working through geuze blenders, actual brewers, barrel houses, and De (x=whateverthefuck) is a difficult process. Sometimes you end up with dank shit, other times it is Timmerman’s disguised waiting to spring that $22 trap on your wallet. Most people don’t fuck around and stick to the old 3F, Tilquin, Loonz, but sometimes you put your dick in the oude gueuze glory hole and get some acrimonious treat.

The Mega Blend Geuze is a blend of young and old Lambic from eight HORAL members (3 Fonteinen, Boon, De Cam, De Troch, Hanssens, Lindemans, Oud Beersel and Timmermans). The beer was specially produced for the occasion of the 7th edition of the Tour de Geuze, and again in the 2011 installment. I know what you are worried about, “I swear to fuck Lindemans better not ruin this shit for me, I am having a Pi Phi over tonight to watch the Notebook.” Well let’s see if this shit goes Mega on the Dr. Wily tip.

More Mashups Than a Girltalk Bootleg

More Mashups Than a Girltalk Bootleg

Brewed by Brouwerij F. Boon
Style: Lambic – Gueuze
Lembeek, Belgium
7% abv

A: This has that classic radiant orange to it and certainly is greater than the sum of its parts because I have seen some shitty looking De Cam (flat as a sack of placenta) and some even worse Hanssens (murkier than a Kyle XY subplot.) The look makes me believe that those 3F boys had a hand in this with Boon but, appearances can be deceiving. The carb is nice but not some massive gusher, the lacing is largely abated by the acidity but it is still elegant.

No composition fallacy  here, shit is better than the sum of its parts. Damn levels detected.

No composition fallacy here, shit is better than the sum of its parts. Damn levels detected.

S: This is musky and gives the smell of oranges, lemon rind, acidity couples with rainy day bicycle seat funk. There is a certain wet compost aspect to this like dewy leaves along with the grapefruit and ph1 madness taking place. This will put your olfactory on the ground faster than Diddy’s bodyguard gets ripped out of a Maybach. That fast.

T: Again this is a strange Voltron of all these geuzezes, you get the muskiness imparted that smacks of deep age and light oxidation, some gentle persimmon sweetness that is quickly pushed out of the way to embrace tangelo, kumquat, tart tiny apricots, and a kind of green apple finish. Put your brewer master bible down you limpdicked diacetyl asshole, no one is talking to you.

M: This is incredibly dry like a super oaked chardonnay and just rips the fuck out of your jawline. If yo have ever undergone ZOOM whitening, you will know the depths of this jimmy rustling. There is a bit of a brackish finish that welcomes the next punishing sip, and I am down for the pound like Jason Collins, oh shit, too soon for those jokes? Alright, pretend I reference Rob Kardashian being a fat entitled Armenian fuck or something.

Pop this bottle at a tasting, show everyone you are beta as fuck.

Pop this bottle at a tasting, show everyone you are beta as fuck.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable despite its acrimonious character. I put up with the hard times because the good times are so good, like fucking a Suicide Girl, you know in the end you may lose your friends and parents respect, but you keep hitting it. I would recommend this to anyone who isn’t a complete pussy, which rules out a large segment of the beer community, those who are left are either lumberjacks or don’t even drink gueuze so it will be a tough sell. Here’s a test to see if you should drink this beer, lean forward to your compute screen, if your tits are currently supported by the desk, you need to do some p90 and leave this shit alone.

If you open this, you probably believe you are some kind of gueuze hero, but people know what you really are.

If you open this, you probably believe you are some kind of gueuze hero, but people know what you really are.

Narrative: David Yost looked out over the Baltimore skyline and slipped his middle-aged face into the tight fitting azure helmet. Throughout the early-90’s children knew him only as the sophisticated blue ranger. He was mercilessly harassed by producers, but they obviously did not know who they were fucking with. Beneath the cool demeanor was a man capable of evoking a mechanical triceratops and conjuring the imagination of millions. Perhaps his perpetually matching garb and needlessly science driven banter was too much for some, but FOX could fuck right off. David slid down a drain pipe and worked his way stealthily amongst the west end projects. The feel of the cool vinyl on his skin was liberating and let him know that, despite his age, he was still a hero to many. His depth and complexity was laudable beyond the mere zord that he contributed the critical mass. Upon witnessing a hand to hand drug transaction David Yost kicked a Baltimore youth in the stomach with a swift roundhouse. The 16 year-old dropped on his Jnco jeans and David felt like he was battling Putties again, only this time with a real purpose. The vials of crack cocaine scattered and some Southpole clad youth could not believe that a white man in a blue costume was kicking the shit out of drug dealers with poise and careful dignity. As the thugs scattered David removed his helmet and bit into a ripe kumquat from the local bodega. The memory of his fallen Yellow Ranger, Thuy Tran, resonating like acid in his heart.

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Oud Beersel Oude Geuze, FOR REAL DOG, YOU ODE.

I can imagine everyone is all hung over from Halloween skankiness, so here’s an acrimonious acerbic review for you candy mongers.

Oud Beersel Geuze, 6% abv

A: pours with yellowish to copper color, mild clarity, two finger head with hardly any lacing. head is thin and white. Just look above lazy ass, I Ansel Adams’ed it all up for you. However, this feels a bit too classy, or like I am not quite ode enough to drink it.

Just seeing this makes me feel ode.

S: very tart and fruity smell, tannin almost white wine effects. Crisp granny smith apple, pears, and wet hay funk. Grand Hay Funk Railroad.

T: bittering effect with a very lambic white grape, some cidery apple notes on the finish, essentially a one two punch of sour then crisp apple
finish. Nice dryness that delivers on several tart levels.

It is almost as sweet as the classy people who make things like this, but more intoxicating.

M: it feels more carbonated, then the fast dissipation burns out, mouthfeel is light and almost of a highbrow spritzer countenance. you could serve this to a sorority girl in lieu of a champagne and feel your heart strain at the lost palate. Like a sassy gay friend, it does double duty for differing tastes.

D: this ultimately depends on if you like these beers, fun to show people for the “Wow this is beer factor,” for me, doesnt have much of a place beyond maybe Valentines Day or a holiday get together. not feminine enough to serve as a pink label product but not sophisticated enough to take the place of heavy hitters like Supplication and Temptation. I can still down it regularly though, and it has a nice price point and availability so. nom nom nom.

nom geuze

nomnom geuze...wait. you ode.

Narrative: What’s that you say?” as you cooly present this pale green bottle of Geuze. You gingerly pop the cork and lithely give it a spin on your rich mahogany table and this school nurse is fascinated by this tiny bottle of champagne you have produced. “No no, this isnt martinellis, this is a BEER” her offputting discountenance is almost lost until you redouble with “AN EXPENSIVE BEER” and your audience has been won. Instinctively you will utter the words SOUR, BELGIUM, and GUEZE, and you will notice the faint sight of her loss of interest, producing a grape smell.

“PLEASE, it just, I…I love beer and…I think I love you too” her ears perk up at the potential for some serious discussion. “I love the bubbly effervesence, the sweetness, the refreshing feeling I get” “YES?!” she anticipates “oh no, from this…this beer. you didnt? oh jeez, this is awkward. take another sip, maybe you just dont get it”

“I GET IT, you LOVE YOUR GEUZE, why dont you SUCK THIS GEUZE if you LOVE IT SO MUCH”

you will proceed to suck down all of your Geuze friends. and like it.