.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..

the agony of sweet mead,
freed from peace and slumber,
to live tethered blindly,
such valor and decor.

walks upon heart sweat,
and tea and timber.

the days are time and time is good.

What does it taste like when dead ponderosa saps into the soil of the earth? And the dark dank pine is clover fueled and weak? When a shipping knot is knit for the complementary?  And the elder bids well, bows, and closes for the night? Does Friday bring a new desire?  A redemption song plays muttered in disbelief.  

In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king

A blind man pawed at the thick branches and cried afoul. Another gaped in disbelief and reached for nearby brush to brace his fall. Looking on from afar, a one eyed man grinned gleefully at the destruction he had wrought on their carefully fashioned hierarchy of rhyme and reason. Disentangling themselves from its dank and sinewy roots, it became clear to the blind men that their beloved tree was blocking the pathway to the rest of the forest.

STOCK!!

Our Paltry Pantry: Yes.  

Bell's Expedition Stout

Le Peche Stout

Devil Dancer Triple IPA

Dogfish Head 60, 90, 120 

Three Floyds Dreadnought 

Bell's Kalamazoo Stout

Rogue IIPA

Founder's Breakfast Stout

Great Divide Oak Aged Yeti Stout

Alesmith Aged Speedway Stout

No Adieu, but a few...

Hazardous hops and murky malt water have degraded the languished lungs and placated plants.  With lap-leveled mischief and trapeze swinging jubilance, I cannot forsake the coming time.  I do commence a borrowing phrase of shriek, shrill, stillness in an ebbing age.  Ago I once felt to be bare buckled and flat knuckled against the titans of the West and Easter monks.  This presence is profound, but a lack of guaranteed floundering.  My hygiene with tilt, will be cleansed and reckoned.  

Our New Beer!!

SUCKS!!!

LIFT OFF!!

Nostrum mica unda est iam promptus. Is must permoveo ex vas ut vas. Nos must expecto magis. Per divinus complexo, nos vadum peto quench. 

Humulus Divinus Cometh.  

Grave

HOMAGE TO A FALLEN SOLDIER:

The dreadnought was the predominant type of battleship of the 20th century. The revolutionary HMS Dreadnought of 1906 adopted an 'all-big-gun' armament and steam turbine propulsion; her impact was so great that battleships built after her were referred to as 'dreadnoughts' and earlier battleships became known as pre-dreadnoughts. The only other major advance in kind was the US Navy design with all main turrets on the centerline of the ship. 

The concept of an all-big-gun ship had been in circulation for several years prior to Dreadnought's construction, and the Imperial Japanese Navy had even begun work on an all-big-gun battleship, the Satsuma, in 1904. The arrival of the dreadnoughts sparked a new arms race, principally between Britain and Germany but reflected worldwide, as the new class of warships became a crucial symbol of national power.  

Her achilles heel was woven into her every texture.  Cracked and crooked she leaked and leaned.  Shattered lies she, broken in vogue and vain when we need her the very most. 

She will be missed.  

LICORICE!!

LICORICE!

PIANO MIDGET!!

PIANO MIDGET. 

Kabaps Anyone

Licorice liquor likes little lollygag licks like lizard legs' little lines like livers.  

Kalamazoo kites kill kicking Kentucky kangaroo kin.  

Yum tongue in cheek, fleas? 

A Watched hop

A saint once told me that a watched pot never boils and that a watched hop never toils. But I think the hop knows full well its dance of dissolution and despair is just a show before it rises to the surface for a breath of fresh air.

Keep hopping and watching...

And Ale Too...

It's splendid, simply splendid, and bubbles.

For Palin Red

Origins

The birth of Hulumus is upon us.  The dawning of the Sunstar of Lupus is open and vociferous, engaged, patent.  Green blossoming of autumnal fear will wane to the elixir of lore, a potion of hoptimous prime.  18 days to rejuvenate before the path is open and imminent.  

Gallop.

Fishes with pets like dogs and spirits rest upon necks with restless carrots.  Minute after minute stewing deeply, coming up with meager scents of meekly, toned and tuned, riche like kabobs of floral arrangements of wooden knobs.  

60 clean, dry, fake. 

90 deep, clear, ripe.

120 gluten, power, stretch fart. 

They don't work like sharks do in the sack.  

Pop Boon Pap Smuck!?

taste

look

win

ERSTE WÜNSCH!!!

eins: lagunitas maximus (5)

zwei: flying dog double pale ale (3.7)

drei: port 2nd anniversary (2.9)

vier: pliny the elder (7.1)

fünf: avery maharaja (4.7)

sechs: mad river steelhead dipa (4.6)

sieben: hair of the dog blue dot (6.7)

acht: port hop 15 (4.4)

neun: green flash imperial ipa (6.5)

Freesing in Paris with DIPAS

St. Mewrog:

1. Caramel, hop heavy, alcohol at end, well balanced. 5.  

2. Much more alcoholic, stranger, more pungent smell.  Less than 5. 3.5. 

3. Ever more alcoholic than 2. Very caramelly smell. Much sweetness. Alcoholic aftertaste doesn't fade. 3.0. 

4. Much stronger hops. Smoother finish with almost no alcohol. 6.3. 

5. Aromatic, floral hoppy. 4.9.

6. Not hoppy. Still alcohol and and. 5.2. 

7. Freely grounder happy. Stereographed idea of what is IPA is. 

8. Smell caramel. Dratis, but took is indictly bliterhg. Hgh alcohol aftertoken bah 4.8.

9. Weed, 5.9. 

s†. Germain:

1. Sweet, balanced, rich, develops, complex--hops subdued til finish, ABV evident at end. Lingering bitterness. 5.

2. Spicier, tarter but subdued. Still rich, still develops. Sweet but hidden. More alcohol. Caramel finish. Less refined. 3.8.

3. Sweet -> alcohol -> hoppy. Doesn't develop. Creamy mouth feel. 2.8.

4. Hop scent, subtle, clean, complex, barely alcoholic. Great light feel. Aromatic smell. Beautiful after taste. Develops fully. Hoppy residue. 7.8. 

5. Tastes like perfume. Smooth feel. Alcohol X 10. Rubbery finish. Bad hops. 4.4.

6. Palatable fart glands. No hops! No hop finish! Alcohol + licking cane start. Not double anything other than pleasant mediocrity. Sugar. 3.9.

7. Smells like tangerines! Hops + alcohol. Light maple. Light bitterness. 6.7.

8. Malty, intense, alcoholic, smell is caramelly + nutty. Not terribly enjoyable. Sharp bite. Not well developed bitterness. Lil bit of bite a lil. 4.0.

9. Weed. Hops are proud to be in this water. Wonderful complexities. Wonderfully enjoyable. Not alcoholic. Not malty. 7.0. 

SERRANO!

Malty chai cock with taint tart punishments. Bank strength, yes. Maple vines are hidden. Hiding behind boxes with brown paper sax. When gloopy syrup drips from the sky and the clouds rain fire water down from above? Finish with tears and yellow screams. Less.

Carbine Glucuronic mg

For FEAR frayed deep: For once hath bespoken intrigue. Sodom travelled leafy walks in Sumatra forests with pests. Number One: with sugar, with beams, with money and muscles, mead complex from birth has paced for two swings. With bite subdued til the gun swallows back, and steam from potatoes oozing lingers at tongue's still. Linger. Linger. Linger sweet bite. Tasting of chana. Taste. Taste.

Tanager Hollow Has Met Race's Meet

Trust your taste but give and take what others will take and give to you. Drinking is like thinking such thoughts, and taking the time of day to stop and say that a hop is not a hop and a river is not mad just because it's rushin'. It will find its way to the salt sea. Timeless and weaving a way for all to believe not in letting you be, but in being with you to see that the creek is the stream and the leaves are the light cheddar cheese in an aftershock of worry. PINE RESIN BOWLS.

Test Tube Bark Bother

Through the obstinacy of a current too fearful to change direction; through the willing betrayal of sharp leaves and bitter branches to their moist roots; through the caginess of a sky that can't decide on blue or grey; through the bleeding of dry yeast sands and the transformation of deep, sorrowful pockets of grain; through malted filth and dark hydro sludge.

Some Kind of Salami

Routes of machinery and pickled poster children.

Reeves and Wheat

Stumbling at river's edge, vindictive clone of paternal code, our heels are tarred with slimy resin. To the sweet null of the Orient. Underexposed with tint and tan, clouds and waves compress like vinyl landslides of mockery flesh.

A Trestle In Woods Knee Deep In Shrooms

A pig named Alabaster truffled its sad hooves down the sharp path lined with pine. Honey combs fell. Trees hummed. Rocks bled.

Rain melted with the vines at edge eye brow, and drip dropped with cane, licked with fire.