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

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.

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.

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-

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"

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.

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Founders Imperial Stout, KBS, FBS, CBS, Now it IS time to cut the BS.

The first time that I tried this beer was in a bar called “Blind Tiger” in Manhattan and I looked like Jafar discovering a bottle with a malty chocolate genie inside. Then I got into trading and the generous ass beer community ruined it for me by forwarding delicious morsels like this my way on the reg. THANKS A LOT GUYS. So this isn’t breakfast, it isn’t from Kentucky, it has no health care so it sure isn’t Canadian: IT IS JUST A FUCKING STOUT GUIZE. Alright, so let’s cut the shit and get down to business today.

See that there, that is a real pour. Go to other beer blogs, look at the Vanilla Dark Lord pours, 1 molar unit of beer, FUCK THAT. Embrace your self-effacement.

Founders Imperial Stout, 10.5% abv, 90 ibu

A: This beer is as black as an Al-Quaeda masquerade ball. Deep slick oil tones, khaki bubbles, mocha tones, great middle carbonation. Deep murky ink sitting hatefully waiting for someone to love. Don’t you want somebody to love? Or would you say you NEED- alright. The carbonation is legitimate but doesn’t flex on you too hard. It’s like some officious gym advice that scare you but, just look at those malty traps.

finally a beer drank exclusively by non-virgins. This is a tough, beef jerky making, log slaying, man beer, Equal opportunity inebriator.

S: Licorice, vanilla, bourbon, toffee, burnt cigars, and a caramel finish. A complex and interesting bouquet. Beers like this are a bitch to review because the sweet husk of perfect execution makes me have to point out how the hot girl had mid digit hair and build an entire case against her as a result. This beer has mid digit hair, ON MY CHEST AFTER I DRINK IT.

T: This tastes like KBS, introductory edition. It has hints of bourbon, hints of the big coffee roasted notes, but doesn’t take it over the top. The balance is phenomenal and it feels like a powered down version of a supercar, the Porsche Boxster to the Carrera if you will. It is by no means deficient, just hits a different mark. This beer tastes as barrel aged at they come without involving a barrel. I don’t know the exact availability but wow, this is the flagship of the east coast (psst Midwest, whatevs, geography lulz.) Just fantastic through and through, it’s like the FAMAS in every single first person shooter, you basically don’t NEED anything else, but, its a solid standby.

This stout straight werks it, borderline twerks it.

M: This has a great coating, nice sticky coating, not overly possessive, lets you go out with your friends without dominating your life, just a nice resonant stickiness that makes a mess without making your life messy. It puts a bit of a resin on your teeth but it feels responsible. The oral hygenist that leans over your lap a little longer but not uncomfortably, you know the dreeze.

D: This is incredibly drinkable despite the ABV, despite the IBUs, despite the errant nay sayers, you can love your Founder’s Imperial Stout however you’d like. I could drink this under any conditions, well, ok, if I had my testicles in a vice, I would enjoy it moderately less, but still, could be worse. This is amazing and if not for its overachieving older brothers, this would easily be in the top 100. GOD DAMN OLDER BROTHERS THAT STOICALLY LIVE IN BARRELS.

Nothing fishy here, just an entertaining stout, through and through.

Narrative: “I can’t go in there, I promised that this would be the last time,” Doug muttered to himself while sitting in his 1995 Dodge Stratus trying to create an explanation for his situation. “Don’t go to the coffee store Doug, that’s what the therapist said, you don’t need any more chocolate Doug, you know, AH HELL!” he cried out to himself and swung the door of his unremarkable, poorly made sedan. Doug burst through the door and entered the modest foyer holding several bags in each hand with a menacing grin on his face. “Oh for the love of God, Doug, MORE? Seriously?” he issued a flippant smile and proceeded to walk to the parlor and deposit his treasures. The parlor had become less of a refuge from domestic life and more of a Wonka/Starbucks/Scrooge McDuck den of iniquity. He emptied the bags into the pile and bags upon bags of 85% cocoa chocolate, whole coffee beans and even vanilla nibs were embraced by the pile. “THIS IS JUST GETTING OUT OF HAND, YOU, I MEAN LOOK AT THIS!” Madeline pleaded with him. In Doug’s mind, this was not excess, but the paradigm of balance. “Oh sure, one room with 125 lbs of chocolate, 125 lbs of coffee and assorted toffee and vanilla snacks seemed obsessive TO SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T UNDERSTAND!” Doug slammed the rich mahogany door and laid in his treasure trove of sweet succor. The sheer balance alone was enough, but there was a special embrace he felt while making a coffee/chocolate/vanilla/toffee angel in his living room floor.

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Bell’s Two Hearted IPA, It Takes a Lot of Heart to Make a Beer Like This, TWO HEARTS

I have been waiting and waiting for this beer for the longest time. I just anticipated it would show up some day as an extra or somehow land on my doorstep and a year later, nothing. There was something about this beer that apparently people want to drink it and not ship it across the country for free, weird I know. This is the final beer on the top 100 popular beers, so that’s also a milestone for me too. Anyway, randomly RatedZ just packed up two and shipped them to me, FOR NO REASON. The beer community’s generosity is getting out of hand.

Total eclipse of two heart

Bottled on 1/31/12, DRANKEN ON 2/23/12, the freshmaker.

Bell’s Two Hearted IPA 7% abv

A: This is a beautiful beer and is certainly worth the hype in the old looks department, this dame is a looker. Not sure about the trout on the bottle, but the carbonation is NOT FISHY AT ALL.

S: Hoppy citrus notes that feel like a westcoast throwback, super grapefruity, it hits the switches and lets the 5th wheel fall, mild pine scraper bikes are all up in the cut and supported by a mild honey but not balls out like Hopslam. The whole thing is a wonderful hop ghetto and I feel right at home.

T: The taste is very muted and gentle and imparts a slight orange rind and chinook or simcoe sort of vibe to it. It tastes bright and cheerful like an amiable old barber that happens to smell like delicious Pine Sol. The whole experience is very mild and has that balance and coercion I have come to expect from Bell’s. The hops are integrated incredibly well and doesn’t assault the palate but instead goes for a classy Oscar de la Renta tux and a modest cumberbun.

M: The wash of this beer is incredibly foamy and light, it begs for sessionability. The coating is very crisp like tongue kissing a cold pinecone covered in apricot juice. Don’t front, you’ve done it. Anyway, a very solid IPA and ranks among the best, no question. It isn’t the most offensive or gauche, but its strength is in its amiability and gentle repose. A nice hop hammock to fritter the days away.

D: If you didn’t catch the clear notes above, this is likely the most drinkable IPA out there, Hill Farmstead notwithstanding. But I ride the HF jock like a 2 Live Crew video so let’s set them aside for now. This beer is a muted lupulin ninja that strikes and disappears in an herbal cloud. It’s a classy IPA that you can take to a play, give a smooch and not try and go all the way with. Also, this beer is not of age.

Narrative:

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Kuhnhenn Bourbon Barrel Barley Wine, Michigan Doesn’t Mess Around With Cold Winters, 15.1% abv

This beer has a huge following from all of those crazy barleywine kids that always get jazzed about anything that gets tossed in a top notch bourbon barrel. PSH. Actually the venn diagram of my life is subsumed by a good penumbra of that diagram, for those visually inclined. I LIKE THIS STYLE. I hope I like this too, seems pretty legit.

Don't adjust your monitor, this beer is flatter than the plot arch in an M. Night Shamylan movie. The twist is you wake up with no credit card.

Kuhnhenn Bourbon Barrel Barley Wine, Barleywine 15.1% abv, 2010 vintage

A: It looks like iced tea. That’s it. Like it seriously looks like the free drink you get at the Old Spaghetti Factory. The lacing is nominal like a hug from a stripper after cash has changed hands. It sits there tepid and sad, wondering where its mother barleywine is, longing for the warm comfort of the barrel it loved. No lacing, not jack shit.

When you fuck with the barley, you get the wine.

S: Oh well, shit. All the hating I just did comes full circle immediately after smelling this. It is brown sugar, sweet macaroon, toffee, mild clove, maple syrup and fresh waffle. It smells incredible. It is like a decadent alcoholic dessert to take in. The lackluster appearance is a complete wash at this point. Just amazing.

T: It doesn’t go as sweet as the nose would suggest and hits initially with a warming flat metallic note that quickly changes its tune into a candy bitterness like a caramel coated leaf and then warms gently into a bourbon den of iniquity. After the first few sips, it becomes apparent that this is meant to be shared, even in a 12oz format. At the end there’s a huge oakiness like that woody finish that I hate from Hair of the Dog and encountered with the 4th Dimentia. It is definitely an intentional stylistic decision and I just dont think that I am on board.

This beer reminds me of something old, angry, irascible, and hateful.

M: This has a mild slick watery coating that marches through and burns shit like General Sherman. Railroad rails are tied around trees. Nothing is spared and your antebellum palate is destroyed toe to tip. It reminds me of in Civilization where you could develop a single unit to completely leevel the entire Babylonian civilization, this is that little beer that is a nuke underneath.

D: Well, read that last paragraph and ask yourself if you would be down to put up with that. I am letting it warm and the bitter beginning with the fireball finish makes this a clip cloppy recalcitrant colt that will not be tamed. I tug at the malty horsebit but it will not be broken, this alcholic beast is a dominator.

After just 12oz of this you wont know what exactly happened, but you might like it that way.

Narrative: Jayden ground his teeth and surveyed the recess playground. “Pussies, each and every one of them, part and parcel” he noted to Jeffrey who was busy counting the Lunchables spoils. Jayden was an anomaly lab child created by a hopeful lesbian love union, the results were not as desired. Jayden grew uninhibited without the constraints of a plcental wall and was a statuesque 5′ tall at age 9 and had the cerebral capacity of a zygote fed pure synthetic nutrition. They had developed the super bully. Having two mothers fed his insecurities and his rage. It wasn’t so much the teasing from the other children, for they regarded him as a stoic golem, not to be pestered. He was upset with the draconian North Dakota laws, which forbade domestic partnerships. Bullying was his craft and vent. “OH OH OH, hey, Golding, come here one more time, your Yu Gi Oh deck, is fucking mine.” It was a troublesome existence, but he financed a civil rights group with his hateful conduct. It was the irony of a filthy hand washing a calloused hand. He flipped a salami piece into his gullet and ground it with his new permanent teeth. “Hunter is a complete fag” he quipped without the mildest sense of irony.