Vermont has been killing it lately. It seems like I can’t go anywhere without hearing about that damn state and its environmental citizens. Protip: Dont move there, just enjoy their beer.
This is the OTHER beer, that was saved from the flood that destroyed the brewery last month. This is the OTHER 700 bottle release that was saved. Unlike the Heretic, this beer is amazing, not a soggy sack of Honduran yard clippings.
A: This beer has a slick deep angry pallor that pours BP thick. Deep black inkiness with mahogany coating on the glass. The head looks amazing with dark cocoa bubbles like frothed chocolate milk. The Quik rabbit was not fucking around when he whipped up with batch, the kids are on one. I mean, just scroll up, there it is, what more can I say, it is an evil libation, fit for despots and overlords alike.
S: This is out of this world complex and amazing. I love the cocoa and chocolate notes up front, supported by some nicely acidic coffee at the back. The waft of subtle vanilla and toffee alcohol makes this all too inviting. It is dark but alcoholic at the same time, like Seal when he isn’t busy copping kisses from roses.
T: It packs all of the foregoing into a multilevel experience that I have to delve into like strata. The sweetness is swift and supported by a great coffee acidic dryness. The sweetness returns in an alcoholic waft that is like if chocolate rain, parabola, and GI Rare had a love child. It has the sweetness from one, the nice coffee notes from the other, and a prickly warmth from the latter. Alcoholic, dark, and brooding, this beer is like Michael Lohan’s parenting skills, only this didnt end up a complete disaster.
M: Great coating without being overly expansive. The taste just lingers and you can truly sip on this judiciously. It gets even better when it warms up, just outrageous top to bottom. I just want to get my mouth all on it. INCOMING SEXIST STATEMENT: both sexes will equally enjoy this statement. I mean that in a genial sense that it has universal appeal beyond the ambit of what is usually deemed an off-putting style. Not just for lumberjacks and beef jerk connoisseurs, this beer is approachable. You know what I mean, I dont want to come off all like I am up in this club:
D: This is an incredible beer. Of course, it has to be one of the only 700 bottles saved from that jerk Irene. Thank god I obtained 2 bottles, this is something that I will savor later on in life, like when I pass the postal exam or break 200 in a game of bowling, you know. Life Monuments. Problem is, I want more of this and my desire remains unslagged. Right when I finish this beer, it feels like this:
Narrative: Raven Simone cast her leather satchel upon the smooth teak floor and fell languidly into her baroque throne. “Another day within this miserable sphere of tween affairs,” she ruminated to herself as her necromage servant poured her a tepid snifter of what appeared to be the life force of a 9 year old child. “How long Levinicus? How long must I endure this curse? The cumulus nimbus clouds of misfortune forever obscuring my greatness with Nick! and ABC Family side projects,” she sipped deeply, “never to come to true recognition?” She looked into her cloudy gazing orb as it recalled flashes from her tawdry past. Raven knew the gravity of the deal that she signed with the Lord of Darkness to obtain the contract for Hangin’ With Mr. Cooper. It stayed with her like a deep oily wound. The terms of her Faustian agreement bound her to tween programming indefinitely, sweet but deeply dark. To buy further time from the underlords, she was the Commander of that dark cadre Cheetah Girls, wholly misunderstanding that she would not be transmutated into a cheetah woman at all. “RAVEN! MAKE UP! TIME FOR THE FOOD FIGHT SCENE!” her dark lord beckoned, a call to fulfill the bilateral contract of evil. She exhaled deeply, swirled her glass and began preparing for the malevolent groin shots that would ensue.