Funky Buddha Bonita Applebaum, No Winzipping, Only .Rar Archives in Today’s Review

Well what do we have here? A Funky Buddha limited beer that is bottled in a blank bomber? Sounds like something you could walk down to Binny’s and pick up, right next to the Daisy Cutter, right? This is one of like 28 bottles produced, and this sweet slice of pie is probably extinct, but let’s look back on desserts past in today’s review:

Applebaum jeans and the malts with the fur.

The Funky Buddha Lounge & Brewery
Florida, United States
American Brown Ale | 6.00% ABV

A: This is turbid and murky like bayou water. If Hill Farmstead uses Vermont water, I am confident that there is a bit of the everglades in this sticky brown ale. The sheeting is minimal and the lacing is pretty lackluster. It’s not the most unfortunate looking beer that I have ever seen but, it’s on the inside that counts, that’s what every person with stretch marks has ever told me.

This is how people react when you pour them this sweet treat. It also helps if they are overweight, and an alcoholic.

S: Holy sweet decadence. This beer is like walking into a fresh bakery and it happens to be a pie clearance sale. There are notes of brown sugar, biscuit malt, sweet apple, caramel, light vanilla, and this lovely cinnamon aspect to it. I said “lovely,” we are talking genteel civilized ales here.

T: This literally tastes exactly like a slice of fresh apple pie. I cannot explain it any more directly than that. It begins with a faint graham cracker and cinnamon then cinnamon and allspice come forward with apple aspects. You should pour this beer over a slice of vanilla ice cream and get shit a la mode real quick. This is the slice of American pie that your camp counselor never told you about.

If you are posting looking for Funky Buddha bottles, you are in the wrong neighborhood, motherfucker.

M: This is very thin and makes no secret about its brown ale roots. You know deep down, there was a normal base beer before they piled all of this incredibly strange but amiable elements on top of it. There’s not much coating but, with the pastries and confectionery going on, you don’t really have time to focus on that. How many times have you left the next morning without underwear on? Yeah, that’s what I thought, trollop.

D: This is decadent and excessive, but it is not exceptionally drinkable. Maybe if you were a baller ass 5th grader your sweet zones could take 22oz of this, but for those of us with pubes, the sweetness becomes cloying after a few ounces. This would almost be better served in nib bottles or as a gentle liqueur to serve to your overweight friends when they invariably get dumped for that tiny size 16 around the block. I would still love to have this again, I just wouldn’t eat a whole pie for dinner, because I have a small shred of self-respect.

You want a bottle of a beer that has less than 50 produced? Better start dropping fat stacks, racksonracksonracks.

Narrative: “Well if you can’t perform a scorpion into seconds with a DECENT TURNOUT, then maybe you need to lose some weight.” The 7 year old stood stunned before Sherry Sourmane, the most dour faced dance instructor in the tristate area. She thought of the sweet slice of pie that she had the night before and lowered her head to the ground. “I just..my tummy hurts and…” The room rattled with the clack of a 6 inch stiletto upon the ground. “Out of my sight, you like wretch.” She was a sour, stern instructor, best enjoyed in small doses. When dance class was over she took to berating the parents in turn. Each fully-grown person in attendance received a fully tailored dress down from Ms. Sourmane. John Marks collected his child and walked solemnly to his car. The dance instructor looked down her brow and took a bite of a Home Run Pie and was all too aware of the tu quoque that she lived on a daily basis.


Funky Buddha No Crusts, Pack This in Your Child’s Lunch, Crazy Trading Power At Recess

Do you like peanut butter? How about sticky jelly? You like being drunk? Well here is the solution for you, drunken PB and J explosion. I had this beer on two occassions, last June it was amazing, last January, it was like peanut butter Consecration and half the bottle erupted. In the interests of fairness, I will review the amazing first foray. Drink those Funky Buddha bottles early, guize, srsly.

Who knows, maybe your shining face will appear on this very illustrious beer website as an alecreeper. One can only dream.

The Funky Buddha Lounge & Brewery
Florida, United States
American Brown Ale | 6.00% ABV

A: This beer had a nice fluffy appearance and great transparency to it with lucid brown hues throughout with amber at the edges. There’s a tame stickiness to it like a turbid glass of sticky chocolate milk.

PB and J beer? Next level ale maneuver. Fucking smart.

S: This is bizarre through and through. It has a deep peanut smell to it. Seriously. It smells like a burnt peanut/walnut with some oiliness to it. There is a grape skin element to it as well. It smells like an uncrustable.

T: This will be incredible easy: this is a pureed peanut butter and jelly sandwich. That is all that needs to be said. A grape juiciness is imparted in the middle with a huge dry peanut finish. I cant believe that I just typed that but yes, it is a peanut and grape beer.

This beer reaches for new heights and scores hard in the paint. Peanut butter alegasm dunking on fools.

M: It is light and lingers gently with a peanut oils finish. There is a huge amount of sediment in the bottom of the glass. It washes away clean and tastes incredible. I have no style guidelines to base this on but its is just simply amazing.

D: I have no idea how that they did this but it is incredibly offbeat and amazing. This is my introduction to this bizarre brewery and I am incredibly impressed. I feel like I could drink a ton of this, in the same way that I weighed 120 lbs in 5th grade. I love PBnJ sammies. Hands down.

I am content, but I want this many more of these.

Narrative: The Ukraine Gulag was oppressive and cold. The winters were harsh and provided little reprieve to its prisoners. Fyodor broke granite slabs in the dry cold winds day in and day out. The prisoners would have no hope were it not for one thing: the smackerels. Sergeyevich, the local lifer had developed an incredible knack for taking the hard tack, provisions and crafting delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwiches from them. The prisoners bit delightfully into the sticky messes with careless abandon. “To the devil with the proletariat masses who keep us within these walls brother Sergey, for a single bit of your smackerels, I would brave the plains of the Gobi desert TWICE OVER!” An overseeing magistrate rapped his cane hatefully on the metal railing twice and the prisoners meekly demurred. “for your jelly…I will live on.” The prisoners nodded in concurrence. Sergey raised a single palm and sagely advised: “I don’t think you are ready for this jelly. No Alexey, you are not ready for this jelly.” He exhaled with indolence and continued to smash granite slabs, looking out upon the icy plains.


Funky Buddha Raspberry Berliner, For those days when actually eating fruit seems like too much of a hassle.

First and foremost, map props to my buddy Diego for making this little Florida dream come true. He sent me one of these gems as an apology for something that really wasn’t even his fault, so WRAP YOUR HEAD AROUND THAT ONE. Funky Buddha knows how to whip up demand and turn out amazing beers, but today lets see if this juicy gem can take things to a Gushers level.

One of 23 bottles, people in Florida know the rules of supply and demand and cetacean farming.

The Funky Buddha Lounge & Brewery
Florida, United States
Berliner Weissbier | 5.00% ABV

First and foremost, look at that shit. It is damn near radioactive in its radiance. That is the look of something that you absolutely would never let you kids have and then they would go apeshit on at a sleepover, much to your chagrin. The thin body and light coating just lets those raspberry tannins ignite and light up the sky. Plus, I drank this in a bar so it looks like you are some lowbrow asshole who likes his Sprite easter pink (read: sizurp.) Anyway, the look is amazing but hands down, the most amazing part of this beer is the smell. Once it was opened it was like all those days spent in the everglade fields harvesting raspberries with Peruvian hired hands. Except, in my case I wasn’t being drastically underpaid and denied health care by- oh shit my soapbox broke. It is like taking DMSO and becoming one with a raspberry. The smell is so fresh and bright that you have a hard time discerning anything but fragrant tannins, mild bitterness from the fruit and a light juiciness.

This beer is unlike anything you are accustomed to, and you are likely never to see anything like it again. Drink it in.

I am talking about real raspberries, not like eating a Ring pop. This is one of the most fragrant beers ever and it’s like giving a hug to a 3rd grader but in a way THAT IS SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE AT SOCCER GAMES OK. The taste is light and a bit heavy on the body and imparts the bitter fruit tannin with a tart juiciness that is fantastic through and through. It technically isn’t on style but, not a single fuck was given, I shared this beer with like 55 people and everyone received a single molar unit so that all could espouse from the hilltops the glory of Floridians at large. I think between the readers of this site, we could literally track down every single bottle released. CONSIDER THAT A CHALLENGE.

Oh so you drank your only bottle of this rare ass beer? Well that sucks, eel with it.

I look back on raspberries past and think of sweet Lenore and out special place in the cave. People came by to take pics with the empty bottle, if that gives you any idea of the type of canonization that this juicy beast imparted, and all were unified. Straight up Edict of Nantes in this bitch.


Maple Bacon Coffee Porter, Funky Buddha, Florida Shows Its True Joie De Vivre

The Funkiest Buddha Maple Bacon Coffee Porter

Three Adjectives. One Noun. And a Whole lot of Truckstop Lovin.

I got some complaints that I
was reviewing too many Porters (three.)

Funky Buddha, Maple Bacon Coffee Porter, 6.3% “Brown Carbonated Liquid”

A: This beer has medium carbonation with tiny bubbles the file upwards like disobedient 3rd graders, to and fro all sticky. It has a deep burnt mahogany shine and gives a lot of reflection off. It feels trashy, yet refined, like a Monte Carlo with candy paint and a dope Hawaiian Punch mural on it. You know it took a lot of Fudruckers checks to make it happen.

S: You cannot fault this beer for false advertising, the aromas are complex and intense, I have to pull it apart like strata. The first smell is a deep maple syrup sweetness like getting a sweet smooch from your aunt from Vermont, who happens to smoke black and milds. The smoke comes through but it’s more of a caramel smoke, not like bacon, but it is there and it smells inviting and fattening. The coffee notes are there, but it seems more like a weak stout coffee than that great acidic or sweet coffee I was hoping for. But I was also hoping for a 4th season of Arrested Development, one can dream.

T: The coffee hits front and center in both the sweet and bitter zones and the smoke follows haphazardly, buttoning his shirt running out the door. There is a huge interplay of the two flavors and ultimately I don’t know who to root for until, OH SHIT, maple comes up from behind with a trashcan and cleans up the ring with both of the two Jabronis. Bacon is nowhere to be found in this melee but I suppose that’s for the best, this is hectic enough. Trailer park deliciousness.

M: The mouthfeel is slick and thin and it’s impressive how much flavor is packed into such a simple base beer. The abv is almost non-existent and the drying from the coffee is offset but the maple sweetness. All in all, this beer is crazy and memorable, like a trip to the coffee plantation…and then finding out that it is also is a “bacon factory.”

D: This beer is crisp and light but carries an insane complexity. This isn’t meant for sessions and it has nothing to do with the ABV or the disapproving looks from your wife. It is just too complicated, no one watches a marathon of David Lynch movies, it just doesn’t work like that. You enjoy your decadent maple bacon madness in moderation, which I guess isn’t hard since this “brewery” makes these bottles in 50 bottle batches so, good luck getting hooked on this sticky ham juice.

Narrative: “Hey Edith, if you don’t mind, Claire has to bail her piece of shit husband out of jail so, you’re working a double.” It was funny how a question can turn into an insult and then into a statement in a single breath. “Come on Jesse!“ Edith clicked her Capri Slim on the rim of the ashtry and let the 2” ashes fall insouciantly. “Yeah, sure I guess, not like I have anything beyond this diner to look forward to.” She looked around the room of the makeshift break room and sighed, another 16 hours of slinging eggs, coffee and bacon to unappreciative truckers. Edith tied her apron on and swished the pork and tobacco taste around in her mouth while she prepared her notepa- “what in the?” Edith glanced over near the OSHA poster and saw, what appeared to be a manilla folder of rare vintage comic books. “Well, hey now, that’s what I call a tip!” One of them even had a certificate of authenticity. “OH MY GOD! THIS CANT BE REAL!” Edith scream and jumped up and down, her thick diabetic frame rattling her white coffee mug on the table. “Action Comics #1, the first appearance of Superman! That comic is valued at $250,000 in mint cond-” “SURPRISE!” yelled the TV crew and the dapper host upon entering abruptly. “Wait what?” “You’re on UPN’s HOTTEST NEW SHOW! ‘LET DOWNS FOR THE WORKING CLASS!’” Edith’s head was spinning, was this a real show? “Yeah, we let people who have basically nothing feeling amazing for a few fleeting seconds, AND THEN BRING ON THE LET DOWNS!” Edith’s hands dropped to her sides in disbelief. Jesse noted, “hey but seriously, get out there, you are still working a double, and, uh, leave the fake comic books for the other guys to read huh?”