Stouts, Stouts and more Stouts...

It was Tuesday night, and Johnny requested a meeting of the founding fathers. Thinking that he probably had some surprise Dogfish Head goodies for us, we eagerly obliged! We were disappointed to find that, not only did he have no surprises, but of 6 of the beers Bim brought, we'd already tasted 4 of them (Bim is sometimes feeble-minded). We started with the Highland Brewing Co.'s Black Mocha Stout (5.3%). This was a good Carolina stout, rich and malty. We chased it with a Blowing Rock Bock Lager, which was smooth, sweet, and also rated a good.The night was off to a great start. We next uncapped a Bell's Kalamazoo Stout (6%). This bottle rocks! There's a cool picture of a guy that I believe is Carl from the movie Slingblade ("Them are some good biscuits, Grrr..."). However, if old Carl had tasted this beer, he'd not only have split Doyle's skull, but also the ass clown who brewed this shit. It has brewer's licorice added (see: brewers turds). It is a very bad beer, and we were very kind to give it just a so/so. Sticking with Bell's, we tried their Java Stout (7.5%). Way to much coffee flavor, not enough beer, but at least no brewers licorice! We completed the Bell's menage a' poo-poo with a Special Double Cream Stout (6.1%). This one advertises 10 types of malts (and a generous helping of brewers spooge), and rated a so/so. Another offering from Blowing Rock, High Country Ale (brewed in the mountains of Boone, NC) was decent and made us long for another night in Popcorn Sutton's old stomping grounds. We closed the night with a North Coast Old Rasputin Imperial Stout (9.0%) This would have been a good match for Guinness, but since it was advertised as a Russian Imperial, we were expecting more. It was way too watery, and rated only a so/so. We closed the special meeting and wandered home, visions of the upcoming 500 in our dreams.

Bim's Mad Bomber Night

Thursday had arrived, so Snake, Fred and Crazy Ken assembled at Bim's for a weekly tasting. Having no real theme for the night, we decided to just empty our beer coolers out and see what treats were in store. Most of the bottles were bomber sized, so we knew a long alcohol fueled evening was to follow. First up was a gem that Snake had brought to us upon his return from overseeing his 5,000 acre tea plantation in Tanzania. Snakes international portfolio of properties are scattered throughout the entire spread of the former British colonial empire. Snakes great-great-great grandfather Alistair Reginald James Mountbatten had first forged his family empire by winning a few thriving tea plantations in the 19th century with his skill in the English card game Whist. First up was Meantime Brewing's Meantime IPA (7.5%). Not like the California style IPA that we are found of, this one doesn't assault your taste buds with a hop grenade but instead starts off with more citrus flavor than pine flavor. Definitely a good, this one was a winner. Next up was a Brassiere D'Achouffe McChouffe (8.0%) An artisanal Belgian Brown Ale, the label featured a copy of the first published work from Pablo Picasso (the legendary Ernie the Keebler Elf bent over fondling a rare big bosomed petunia). Despite pouring what appeared in Bim's words to be "Cooper's ditch leavings" and "you need a toothpick with this one" according to Snake, this was one awesome beer. Fred said it seemed like it contained "the remains from the bottom of a McDonalds deep fryer" but damn this was tasty and it got a very good. We then opened a bottle that was graciously given to us by our new neighbor, Dr. Chett McLuuven, who couldn't attend due to a previous engagement with the womens luge team from Iran. The Bruery 'Coton" (14.5%) was a mix of 75% ale with 25% bourbon barrel aged ale. Crazy Ken liked it so much he hearkened back to his teenage years as a sharecropper in Shady Grove, Alabama where he liked to "ride the cotton pony". As we all threw up a little in our mouths at hearing what the urban dictionary describes as well (we will leave it up to you to look it up yourself), Ken said it meant picking cotton while riding a mare bareback (which didn't help his cause in any manner). This was still a solid beer that didn't kick you in the jimmy with an alcohol onslaught, but was also strong enough to keep you from trying to shotgun it. Southern Tier Imperial Gemini (10.5%) was then opened. This was another mixture, featuring a 50/50 split between their Unearthly and their Unfiltered Hoppe. Undeterred by the waxing poetics of the label that described a moon and star filled sky that dances around the Gemini twins, (which by the way, the only twins the BC4M are into are of the sweater puppy variety), we happily drank this smooth elixir and gave it a good. Next was a Hoppin' Frog B.O.R.I.S. The Crusher Oatmeal Imperial Stout (9.4%). BORIS stands for "Bodacious Oatmeal Russian Imperial Stout" and was self proclaimed as a "GABF" gold medal winner. Snake said what the hell does that stand for "gay ass butt fuckers"?. Thankfully the answer was no, since this bottle of pure deliciousness was amazing. Fred said it reminded him of the "leftover chocolate milk from a bowl of cocoa krispies". Smooth, velvety and full of flavor, this was easily an RFG, and thus was elevated to the pantheon of beers. Next was a bottle of Doppel-Hirsch Bavarian Doppelbock (7.2%). Another of Snake's treasures from his world travels, this one featured a pair of giant Siberian elk racking one another. Snake the avid hunter, recounted his taking of two of these magnificent beasts while on an Tibetan goji berry harvesting trek up Kumiet Peak in outer Mongolia. Armed with only a slingshot and a jar of Vick's VapoRub, he successfully slew the ferocious man-killers seconds before they took down a group of traveling Somalian minstrels that were to perform later that evening at the Genghis Khanapalooza festival. This was a thin doppelbock that was still quite tasty and even though Bim suggested the label looked more like a Unibrou product (and you dear readers know how we despise those French speaking Canucks) it rated a solid good. Ballast Point Sea Monster Imperial Stout (10.0%) poured as dark as the bottom of the South China Sea. The label had an angler fish on it, the kind that typically shows up on your average Chinese take out joint menu as "dou yuo sim" which probably means, "your ass turns green" after eating it. Thick and chewy, this oatmeal stout proved as fortifying as a bowl of Quaker Oats on a snowy December morning and it rated a very good. Out of bombers, but not ready to call it quits, we opened a Firestone Pale 31 (4.8%). A California style pale ale, this is the group that has the foppish dandy gay lion fighting a metrosexual grizzly bear on the label. This beer would be perfect for the type of guys that watch the Bravo channel instead of Monster Truck Jam. Light and sweet, like many of the "men" found on Colley Avenue, this was still decent and it got a good. Ken and Snake left soon after due to having to work the next morning, and as Bim and Fred were cleaning up, out of the lighting crashed sky arrived King Dogfish Head himself, J. Wilder. Just returned from a trip to Rehoboth Beach that included his trusted sidekick Canteen Boy (D-Rail), Wilder had brought us back a few Dogfish Head bombers to share. First up was DFH Namaste (5.0%), a beer brewed with "coriander, orange and lemongrass". WTF does Namaste mean said Bim, as we split this brute three ways. Johnny said that the skank-ass bartender who served it had told him it meant "bow to you". One taste in and we realized the skeleton on the bottle was most likely the moron who drank this diesel fuel before they bottled it. "No Mas" said Fred, as he struggled to finish off this bilge water. "Hell", said Fred, "Namaste should translate into bow to the porcelain princess cause this shit makes me wanna hurl." Thankfully, the next beer, DFH My Antonia (7.5%) tasted a whole lot better. A "continually hopped" Imperial Pilsner, this was "the best Pils I have ever had" according to Bim. Smoother than a freshly brazilianed taint, this went down easier than a ten dollar "relaxation assistant" on food stamps so it rated a good. Once again the bombers had left the hangar, so we continued on with a Shiner Bohemian Black Lager (4.9%). Decent albeit watery, this is easily the best beer these boys from Texas make. This could easily be a serious session beer, since its basically alcohol free but has a decent taste. Next was a North Coast Acme California Pale Ale (5.0%). As Fred valiantly tried to keep up with all the ratings while writing in our leather bound tome that contains the secrets of the BC4M, Bim declared "We are drunk as fuck!" This beer was pretty good, as it had no outstanding qualities, but was refreshing and would be an easy summer drinking beer. The last beer of the night, Mendocino Brewing Red Tail Ale (6.0%) was a forgettable watery mess that left us hanging. Most of these "mid-market" craft brews are really just fancy home brews. The majority of them are so-so and are not worth buying again, but since we have to try every beer made, we will endure the taste bud torture that most beers put us through. After surviving a torrential downpour that swept through the area as fast as a Kenyan marathoner, we took our standard bottle picture and then held the requisite beer bottle field goal contest behind Bim's courtyard. After somehow avoiding all the shards of glass, we stumbled home, one step closer to the vaunted 500 night that was just around the corner.

Summer Solstice

Prince Mike sent out a Wednesday request to gather the neighborhood BC4M Druids in order to celebrate the summer solstice. The idea was to drink some unique summer beers and maybe sacrifice a goat or two to the sun gods. The meeting started with Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy (4.2%). The shandy is a popular English beer, where they cut an ale with Sprite so that they can drink at work and not get too hammered. This had little or no beer taste. It was described as Landshark meets Bartles and James. It rated a so/so. We followed with Southern Tier's Uber Sun, Imperial Summer Wheat (8%). It reminded us of Wilder's description of his first hummer..."It was OK once I got the taste out of my mouth". This one made Snake gag on the first sip, but improved a little as we continued drinking, and rated a so/so. We used an RJ Rockers Patriot Pale Ale (a sucky beer in it's own way) which we've already rated, as a palate cleanser. Rogue's Somer Orange Honey Ale (5%) was next. It tasted like overly carbonated free range coastal water. Had a little honey taste, but lacked any beer taste. It sucked. Bell's Oberon Ale (5.8%). This is a wheat beer that smelled like a portable toilet or landfill, on a hot summer day. Taste was a little better, which earned it a so/so. Ballast Point's Calico Amber Ale (5%), with a picture of a large mouth bass on the label, was a good session beer, and easy on the taste buds. It rated a good. The tide had turned, and we had high hopes, until Prince brought out the Smuttynose Summer Weizen Ale (5.2%). This one smelled like formaldehyde and tasted like pickle brine. It says it's brewed with chamomile flowers... there's probably a reason this is not a standard beer ingredient! Liked the label which had a picture of my mom floating around in our above ground pool, circa 1973. Then it happened... Prince popped the top on what may be the worst beer ever brewed. 21st Amendment's Hell or High Watermelon Wheat (5.5%). Words can't adequately describe this mess of a beer. Snake thought it tasted like sweat in a bottle, Crazy suggested it was ABC (already been chewed) gum. Most of it ended up in the Chesapeake Sewer system. And with that, it was almost time to adjourn. Mike lit the bonfire, we danced around it for an hour in nothing but our whitey tighties, sacrificed the goat, and staggered home. Another BC4M triumph.

Rogue Trip to Dela-where????

For the second time in mere months, Wilder was called upon to share his expertise in milky substances that harden in ultraviolet light with a batch of dental supply newbies in the quaint town of Milford, Del. You know what that means -- a side trip to Rehoboth Beach for some of the piquant potables available at Dogfish Head Brewings and Eats. D-Rail eagerly joined Wilder on the trek, as the two discovered the not-so-familiar gems Aprihop and Johnny Cask 75 Minute IPA (7.5%) their last time in Delaware. The Cask, a tasty beverage with the drinkability of the 60 and the crisp fruit and hop notes of the 90, would've easily have gotten an RFG, but there was a previous hang up from one member who said "there can't be ratings without a quorum of three founding fathers." It's rumored that the aforementioned member suffers from a debilitating disease known as cant-be-left-out-itis, in which the affected transmogrifies from one square-shaped cartoon character to another, the latter being Droopy the Dog. (Never knew one's jowls could actually sag so low -- where's my t-shirt? -- it's not a pretty sight). But as luck would have it, in the midst of witty chat about twin dentists and hot blondes from Tangier Island, the two beer clubbers happened upon a French-speaking Slovenian nurse and a Gaboon monkey -- both with discriminating palates -- to fulfill the needed number requirements. Wilder and Rail cheered their findings with a sampling of Redhook's Treble Hook Barley Wine (10.1%). Rail's not a big fan of the barley wines and found this version bittersweet and leaving a weird finish on the tongue. After three swigs, he cracked open an Oskar Blues Dale's Pale Ale. Wilder first satisfied his need for sweet with a Boylan's Creme Soda (0.0%) and then the Treble. His first impression of the Hook was that it was too sweet and the aftertaste was typically Redhook. The nurse concurred by demonstrating her ESBitter-beer face. Or maybe that was the long-awaited "Magnum." Wilder and Rail briefly focused their attention on the upcoming BC4M Beerfest tournament (Das booooot!) and then looked for a discount liquor/beer and porn store. Unfortunately, all they could find was a Manlove Parts store (auto parts, people). The random clatter of the monkey bouncing around in the back of the grocery-getter broke the redundancy of soybean fields and chicken processing plants, and soon the sight of the Dogfish Head oasis was a welcome one. Although that might have been because Wilder and Rail were delirious from the nurse's repeated renditions of Las Ketchup's Asajere.
First of the many brew-pub exclusives was Zeno (5.2%), a saison-style beer that was tapped the night before -- ahh, the beauty that is DFH Eats. Rail said it was a more pronounced version of Sam Adams Summer Ale, while the nurse mused "les parfums des peau d'agrume et poivre chantent." A solid good. Next was Life and Limb (10.0%), a collaboration between Dogfish and Sierra Nevada with very-limited availability. A sign was posted next to the door stating that this particular elixir, brewed with maple syrup and bottle conditioned with birch syrup for natural carbonation, was unavailable for carry-out purchase (sorry fellow beer-clubbers). Wilder, not wanting to break any "rules" bit his tongue before proclaiming it an RFG. So Rail said it for him -- it was really fucking good. Medium-bodied, dark roasted malt, with an alcohol bite and a maple finish. But this trip up Valhalla's steps was just the beginning, as draft-selections muh-muh-muh My Antonia (7.5%) and Unfiltered 90 Minute IPA (9%) both kicked ass. The Antonia is a continuously-hopped imperial pilsner and this beer surprised with in-your-face hop flavor from a light-bodied beer. Wilder, who said he's never found a lot of pilsners he's liked, favored the Antonia more than the Life and Limb and slightly better than the Unfiltered 90, which has similar malt and raisin tones as the D'Etre and a well-hidden alcohol punch. Wilder then demonstrated his Karate-Kid skills on an unsuspecting fly at the bar. Dogfish's last call-at-11 p.m. offering was Bitches Brew (9.0%), an imperial stout with a Willy Wonka-esque flavor trip through coffee peaks, hickory smoke clouds and chocolate rivers. D-Rail momentarily turned his head to witness the spontaneous squall on the DFH doorstep, giving the monkey the opportunity to suck down the rest of the brew. The monkey then flicked both thumbs up, but Wilder, who was partaking in an additional sampling of Life and Limb with the future proprietors of thebeercouple.com and a brewer's wife, who had a copy of "The Naked Pint" under her arm, was pretty sure he was flinging dung at our flannel-wearing bartender Kiki. We left the Dogfish mecca in search of more beer (not without picking up bottles of My Antonia and Namaste for the boys back home) and ended up at a sports bar called Grand Slam. There, D-Rail showed off his prowess at mini-basketball, terminator ass-kicking and big-game hunting. The duo also sampled Amber Sun Ale (5.5%) by 16 Mile Brewing Company in Georgetown, Del. The bartender described the ale as a mix of Yuengling and Blue Moon and she was actually spot on. Unfortunately it left D-Rail craving either of those beers instead of a combination. So-so to good, Wilder probably liked it a little better since he was double-fisting beers at this point in the night.
That's all from the road trip to DFH. A number of tasty bevvies, and you've got our rogue ratings -- no doubt, there will be a founding father blasting erroneous on this blog entry. Though to echo his favorite quotable: "If you can't make it to Dogfish Head for brew-pub exclusives, then fuck you." Hahahahaha!!!!

Ode to an Old Black Dog

It was a sad day in the hood, as Bim had to put down one of his dogs. To help lighten the mood, Fred purchased a sampling of dog-related beers from the Laughing Dog Brewery, and we commenced to toasting the old girl, Faye, who lived an adventurous life of butt sniffing, digging up cable TV lines and crashing through multiple different screen enclosures. While Bim rarely saw eye-to-eye with this obstinate dog, he respected her tenacity. No matter how deep he buried the TV cable, she would dig it right back up and invariably chew through it during the Superbowl, or some other important event. The first beer sampled was Laughing Dog's Devil Dog Imperial IPA (10.8%). This was a fine IPA, and the name suited our late devil dog perfectly. Well balanced and smooth, it earned a solid good. Next up was the Crotch Sniffing Bastard (6.5%) which was as unpleasant as a pungent dog fart in a poorly ventilated enclosed space. Just like Faye, this shit was just plain bad. We followed this loser with their Dogzilla Black IPA (6.9%), which was a real nice dark version of an IPA. Not all that hoppy, but very smooth and drinkable. We finished the session with a Bourbon Barrel Aged Dogfather Imperial Stout (10.85%). This beer was a winner. Just a touch of bourbon, with all the other goodness that we've come to love in rich stouts. It too was a solid good. With the tastings over, we shared dog stories including one from Bim's past, when he owned a beagle named The Chief. Chief was a dog with attitude. His idea of fun was the equivalent of a wrestling match... something we called the slap fight. One would try to slap The Chief across the snout, while he attempted to take your hand off with his snarling fangs. Sounds brutal, but he loved it. The Chief had attitude. After one long night of drinking, Bim staggered into his parents home, and, too lazy to walk the 20 feet to his own bed, crashed on the couch. Chief apparently needed to go out, but Bim, too tired to move, would not budge from the couch. As Bim described it, "It was minutes after this interaction that I awoke to a horrible foul smell, only to find Chief's dog butt inches from my face as he was dropping a deuce on the pillow on which my head rested. For a brief instant our eyes connected, and I swear I could see him grinning at me!" RIP Faye, Chief, Buxton, Cosmo, and all you other dogs who've made our lives richer with your companionship.

IPA night

When we started this little drinking group we generally would pick a theme and get beers of the same type or maybe even ones from the same region of the world for our tastings. For the past few months, we had gotten off course and would simply pick 10-15 random beers of various styles and have our night of revelry. Fred suggested we partake in an IPA night, since we do love the "Hop Grenades" of the beer world. We met at Fred's spacious Georgian style manor home for an evening that would make any humulus (thats the latin name for hops you dumb dumbs) fan envious. Just returned from his win at the 4th annual endangered species fish-a-thon amidst the crocodile infested wetlands of southeastern Thailand (where he speared five mekong delta catfish and one rice farmer by mistake), Snake had wrangled up a bottle of Moylan's Hopsickle Imperial Ale (9.2%). Triple hoppy screamed the label, but this stuff was so dry that if you poured it into your pool, the pool would most likely evaporate. "Drier than a sun-washed beach towel" said Bim, as we clamored for a glass of water to quench our parched tongues. The taste was decent, but since it made us suffer from dehydration, we gave it a so-so. Next was a Weyerbacher Double Simcoe IPA (9.0%) that was supposedly almost as smooth as J. Wilder's self proclaimed freshly shaved teabag. Unlike hearing the details of his shorn marble holder this one is a true winner and got a solid good. Our next beer hailed from our friends in Athens, Ga, Terrapin Hop Karma IPA (6.0%). Boasting a label that featured Yertle the Turtle playing the sitar while drinking what must have been a grande lassi chai sharbet, this IPA meets brown ale promised "peace love and hoppiness", but instead was more malty than hoppy. Unfortunately, this amalgamation of ideas was about as successful as Crystal Pepsi so it got a so-so. Smuttynose Big 'A' IPA (9.6%) was opened next. The bottle label featured a photo of Frank the Tank wearing his trademark choad humpers from his days as a boxer at the U.S. Naval Academy. Tank (or Francis the Mauler as he was known back then) was a three-time welterweight boxing champ during his years in Annapolis. His legendary first round beat down of the then undefeated Army Cadet Jimmy "Irish Car Bomb" O'Hoolihan at the 1978 All-Military boxing championship cemented his status as the "pimp balla" of the armed forces. This beer was drinkable, and like a good roundhouse punch from Tank, packed a decent kick so it got a good. A local brewer, St. George's IPA (5.0%) was next and what a disappointment this swill turned out to be. Hop and flavor free, this was twelve ounces of pure dumpster juice that was simply awful. "This shit sucks ass" screamed Bim, while Fred suggested it would make a good paint remover. We thankfully moved on to Stoudt's Double IPA (10.0%) which boasted the highest ABV of the night. This amber colored vixen however was deceptive as she was more sweet than hoppy and tasted more like a doppelbock rather than an IPA. The sugary flavor dominated and little or no hops was detected. It rated a so-so. Great Divide Titan IPA (7.1%) was described as "assertive and aromatic" yet Snake exclaimed, "this crap is flatter than Kate Hudson". More piney than citrusy, the taste wasn't terrible even if it did seem like the boys left out the carbonation, so it only rated a so-so. Lagunitas Maximus IPA (7.5%) bore the typical left wing gibberish that we have come to expect from these brewing granolas. Bim shared with the group the obviously hemp fueled ramblings found on the label that extolled the virtues of "tattoos, nipple piercings and hummers". "Damn, who wouldn't want to belly blast a temptress with that lineup?" said Fred, as we drank this amazingly good brew. Even though it has over 70 IBU's, it isn't overly hoppy yet it is still quite tasty. Steamworks Conductor Imperial IPA (9.24%) was on tap next. The label on the bottle showed a picture of famed railroad engineer Casey Jones's lesser known half-step brother, Hiram Ignacious Jones, whose claim to fame was engineering a record breaking run from Peoria to Tallahassee aboard the Cleveland Steamer in 1921. Blending the three American hops (Warrior, Simcoe and Tomahawk) this was spicy and sweet, with a good amount of maltiness. This indeed was a very good beer and left us wanting more. The next to last beer of the night was from our new friends in Ohio, Hoppin' Frog Hoppin' To Heaven IPA (6.8%). Again, we had received an IPA that wasn't overpoweringly hoppy yet tasted pretty good. We ended the evening with a Stone Cali-Belgique Belgian IPA (6.9%). Stone makes a damn fine beer, but why the hell they decided to continue the pussification of American beer drinking by taking their already wonderful Stone IPA and using Belgian yeast instead of the normal stuff is a mystery. What you get is a mixture better suited for use in cleansing medical instruments. Absolutely asstastic, this fermented batch of skunk urine was utterly disgusting and got a rating of sucks. With that, we adjourned the meeting, but only after Bim made us howl with laughter as he reproduced his infamous "cock of the walk" maneuver while stumbling out the door. Just imagine the sight of him baying at the moon like a preening bantam rooster as he navigated the porch steps and you will understand how we basically laughed our asses off. Maybe next time we will be lucky enough to get video proof to share. Until next time we leave you with the Jay-Z line " I got 99 donuts cause a bitch ate one"

World Beer Festival-Richmond

And so the fateful day had arrived. The World Beer Festival was a mere hour and half away in the state capital. The event was scheduled to start at high noon, and the weatherman had promised a cloudless day filled with high humidity and scorching heat. Bim, Fred, Johnny Wilder, D-Rail along with Fred and John's lovely brides squeezed into the Milf Machine (i.e. Mrs. Wilder's soccer mom van) to begin the journey up I-64 to the mecca of brewdom. Anyone who has made the trek from Chesapeake to Richmond at any time other than perhaps 3 a.m. on a Sunday morning can attest to the fact that it takes a shit load of time to go the roughly 90 miles distance. In hindsight, we should have left at 9 instead of 10 to account for all the tourists motoring along with no where to go (other than to piss us the hell off). In fact, one particular stretch of highway had us encounter a 5-car posse of corn fed folks from Indiana. One of the cars was driven by famous bootlegger Shotgun Granny Slaybaugh and she blocked Johnny time and time again with her NASCAR inspired driving maneuvers until he gave her the classic Shake and Bake technique and left her and her kinfolk in the rear view mirror. After we toiled up the interstate with the J-man weaving in and out of traffic like a scene from the all time classic guy flick Smokey and the Bandit (anyone that doesn't like that movie is either a buffoon, a commie or just plain dumb), we arrived in downtown Richmond about 30 minutes into the festivities. D-Rail was the only member of the group without a VIP ticket but we went to that entrance anyway. Bim convinced the ladies working the counter that D-Rail was his bastard love child from his time working as a freelance gynecologist in a Cambodian orphanage during the late 70's and that this was the first time they had seen each other in 18 years. Somehow, they bought the story and D-Rail got the VIP pass for free. We were off to the races, and we arrived to the VIP tent to find a gourmet buffet, a 2 man jazz ensemble and a plethora of beers only available in the tent. Amazingly, the festival was hardly crowded at all, but perhaps the hot weather and early start time had convinced most folks to attend the second session that was to happen later in the day. Regardless, we were stoked to find out we had the place virtually to ourselves. We found a empty table in the VIP tent and hunkered down for a 3 and a half hour drink-a-thon. The beers in our tent were first on our list and since we tasted so many, we will just tell you what they were and what we thought of each one. Great Divide Hercules Double IPA (10%) was an ass kicker, and one of the servers said "damn, a double IPA to start the day?, you guys are nuts". He obviously was unaware that the shirts we wore for the occasion (the freshly designed second offering from the BC4M apparel collection) bore the famous lineup of beers from Popcorn Sutton night and that we were in fact not the typical college Bud Light drinkers he would be serving for the majority of the day. Full Sail Premium Session Dark Lager (5.4%) was a very good 6-pack type of beer, Rogue Loyal Companion Brewers Ale (9.0%) was shitty and dry as melba toast, Brooklyn Brewery Sorachi Ale (7.6%) was crappy, like a bad version of Sam Adams Summer Ale. Uinta 16th Anniversary Barleywine (10.4%) was decent and not too sweet, The Bruery's Orchard White (5.7%) was crisp, light, and fruity but also very good. Sierra Nevada Bigfoot Barleywine (9.6%) was decent, Smuttynose Star Island Single (5.6%) was absolutely terrible and was immediately poured out, while Jever Pilsner (4.9%) was a skunky mess of a pilsner. Dominion Millenium Barleywine (11.4%) was powerful yet very drinkable. Amazingly, we had already sampled 10 beers and we were only 30 minutes into the 4 hour clock. After we had a quick snack of grilled sausages, we headed out to scout out the festival grounds. There were two large tents that had 4 rows of booths under each one, so we went to the first tent and began our quest. Before we had arrived, we put together a game plan than would have made Bill Parcells proud. To allow us a decent chance at trying 50 beers, we eliminated every beer we had previously tried and also said no the all the hard ciders available (so that the ladies in attendance can have more to drink said Fred). From the outside booths of the first tent we had the following; Full Sail Amber Ale (5.5%) which was so-so, Gaffel Kolsch (4.8%) which was like drinking a grape Nehi soda, Fordham Helles Lager (5.1%) (colored water that sucked), Fordham Copperhead Ale (4.7%) which was ok, Cottonwood Endo IPA (5.9%) which tasted like bad buttered popcorn, Extra Billy's Red Ale (4.65%) and Pilsner (6.25%) which were both horrid, as if Billy forgot that beer actually has 4 main ingredients (he only got the water part correct), Victory Helios (7.5%) was pure garbage and Heavy Seas Smoke on the Water (8.0%) which was excellent and very smooth. Undeterred, we moved on and ran into one of Fred's lovely coworkers (who was darting in and out of each tent like a cobra in an attempt to float every keg of hard cider she came across). We tried a Weyerbacher Heresy (8.2%) which was simply awesome, and although not quite an RFG, we liked this one alot. We will definitely give this one another chance as it is sweet, smokey and delicious. The inside booths of tent #1 featured the following; Kona Wailua Wheat (5.4%) that was good even though it is made with passion fruit (and yes we did drink it ladies), Pyramid Curveball (5.0%) which was so-so, although the girls pouring it loved our blog, Legend Golden Ale (7.0%) was peppery but good, 21st Amendment Golden Doom (8.2%) was a Belgian style ass ale, North Coast Brother Thelonious (9.4%) was an Abbey style bowl of fruity pebbles, Bards Gold Sorghum Malt (4.6%) was a gluten free beer that tasted like Rice Chex cereal, Brooklyn Brewery Brooklyn Blast (8.2%) was another Belgian disaster, Harlem Beer Company Sugar Hill Golden Ale (4.0%) was absolute crap, but featured the girls from Zamundah in Eddie Murphy's Coming to America as servers and Urthel Saisonniere (6.0%) which while fruity and spicy, was actually ok. We went back to check on the wives and found that they had made a friend at the Woodchuck Cider display. They said they were set since they could guzzle all the cider they wanted, so we ate some more sausages and went back to find out what other beers were available. It was around 2:30, so we knew we had a little bit of time, but we were feeling the effects from the sun beating down on us like we were on a forced march through the Mojave desert. Undaunted, we heard our fearless leader J. Wilder do his best Anchorman impression as he yelled out "BC4M, Assemble!" The second tent was on the eastern horizon as we maneuvered along the banks of Brown's Island with what seemed like scant hope of reaching our 50 beer quest. From the second tent we had Brewdog 5AM Saint (5.0%) and Brewdog Hardcore (9.2%) which were both very good, Bluegrass Brewing Co. American Pale Ale (5.79%) which sucked, Boulder Beer Co. Cold Hop (6.5%) which was good while their Sweaty Betty (5.9%) was gross, although the heavily pierced and tatted server caught D-Rails eye. Blue Point Toasted Lager (5.3%) was soapy tasting, Blue Point Summer Ale (4.39%) was poop and Blue Point Blueberry Ale (4.6%) was just plain weird like a alcoholic Pop-Tart. Williams Brothers Joker IPA (5.0%) had a good label and that's about it, Breckenridge Avalanche Amber Ale (5.41%) sucked, D.L. Geary's Summer Ale (6.0%) and Pale Ale (4.5%) were both so-so. Wurzburger Hofbrau Pilsner (5.42%) was sucky, Heineken Dark (5.17%) was actually decent, while Williamsburg Ale Works Coffee House Stout (5.4%) tasted like a stale frappe and the Williamsburg Ale Works White Ale (4.5%) was awful. Gordon Biersch Sommerbrau (4.6%) was quite tasty, Lion Brewery's Stegmaier Amber Lager (5.3%) was ok, Laos Brewery's Beerlao Dark Lager (6.5%) was like drinking Ho Chi Minh's bedpan leavings, Spaten Munich Dunkel (5.5%) was good, Blue Mountain Rockfish Wheat (5.4%) sucked and Basteels Brewery Triple Karmiliet (8.4%) was so-so. As we stumbled back to the tent to find the girls, we realized we had just crossed the 50 beer plateau. The festival was coming to an end, and we made our way to the exit. We were all somehow still thirsty (perhaps it was the 3 hours in the 100 degree heat), so we decided to head to the Capitol Ale House. If you haven't experienced it, the Capitol Ale House is a Richmond landmark. With 4 locations, this is the place to go for a beer selection that would rank among the best in the world. They generally have 40-50 beers on tap (ON TAP) along with anywhere between 200 to 300 different bottled beers to choose from. We decided to try a Legend Brewing Maibock (6.6%) while we waited on our waitress. This beer was clean crisp and tasty and it rated a very good. As we waited, dark clouds rolled overhead and since it didn't appear as if our server was returning to take our orders we decided to go grab a bite to eat at another Richmond institution, Bottoms Up Pizza. We arrived in time to grab a seat on the patio and sample some of the best pizza around. While we ate the pizza, we decided we needed to try another beer. Only one beer on the menu was new to us, so we each got a 22 oz Lagunitas IPA (5.7%). Nothing beats a cold beer and a big ass pizza (except maybe a cold beer and a well you get the idea) and this IPA was very smooth without being overly hoppy. Exhausted form the days activities, we decided it was time to head home. We stopped at the nearest Redbox and picked up a copy of J. Wilders autobiography (the previously mentioned Anchorman) to watch on the way home. Most of us were passed out within the first 20 minutes of the movie. The long hot day had indeed taken its toll on the BC4M. But our quest to sample 50 new beers was surpassed as we had somehow made it to a grand total of 53. It wasn't easy, but it was one hell of a ride. For those of you who haven't met us, there is a picture on Richmond.com that shows the 4 hooligans that showed up to the festival proudly sporting their new club t-shirts. Just search under "spotted at the world beer festival" and you will eventually come across our picture. Of course, the jabroni who took the pic and interviewed us somehow spelled each of our names wrong (how can you mess up Fred Flintstone?), but at least you can see the men behind the sombreros. We are now fast approaching beer number 500 and as promised, we will break the seal on what is supposedly the best beer in the world, the legendary Westvleteren-12. Until next time dear readers, we leave you with the immortal words of famed beer guzzler W.C. Fields who said, "Everybody has to believe in something..I believe I will have another drink".

D-Rail's Dieu Dieu Chili Night

Thursday had rolled around and we actually got to do a meeting on our normal night. Bim once again proved to be a competent host as we sat out under the stars listening to the soothing sounds of the babbling water feature in his back yard. Actually, the noises we were hearing were from the 5 billion bugs that migrate to Bim's backyard pond every summer to reproduce and cause general mayhem in the neighborhood. Armed with an industrial strength aerosol bug repellent that was probably on the EPA banned substances list, we set out to try another grouping of new beers. The lineup assembled for the evening included some remains from Fred's cache and amazingly enough even a few gifts from D-Rail himself. Fresh back from a job harvesting plantains on his Bolivian uncle Julio "Dirty" Rodriguez's Costa Rican commune, D-Rail had finally earned enough "dineros" to actually afford to bring the group a beer or two. Before we cracked open his offerings, we poured a Hoppin Frog Mean Manalishi Double IPA (8.2%). Fred mentioned it had to be named for the famed Judas Priest song that rocked during Bim's mullet wearing Z-28 Camaro driving days of the late 70's, but the ultra-hip and urbane J Wilder said it was actually a term describing someone who could "make it rain bitches". Snake said "I don't give a fuck what it means, pour me a damn beer". This tasted very hoppy and was a smooth concoction that made Bim say, "oh hell yea" and it rated a good. Next was a Voodoo Brewery Pilzilla Lager (6.7%) which featured a hop covered T-rex that supposedly depicted the power of the beer that resided inside. Clever names and snazzy labels aside, this beer in one word FUCKING SUCKS. The bottle should have had Godzilla's goofy nephew Godzookie on it cause it was weak as hell and it tasted like warm goat piss (well at least D-Rail says it does). Prince Mike even got into the discussion by describing this as "a failed short bus home-ec project". We moved on to a Pikes Naughty Nellie Artisan Golden Ale (4.7%). Malt, hop, and taste free, artisan evidently is Latin for 'alcohol free'. This beer was simply awful. Wilder wanted to know what made this fair haired Nellie so naughty, and we found out this beer was named after the saucy minx who ran the brothel in the town where this brewery was founded. Thin as a rail with no curves at all, this blonde could have made a fortune as the nightly entertainment at the local hoosegow, but as for us, we said no thank you madam. Further research shows that Naughty Nellie's are also cast iron boot jacks popular during the late 1800's that depict a spread legged harlot that would help you get your boots off when you went indoors. Nothing says "welcome home honey" from a long day slaving in the coal mines than a corseted floozy with her legs akimbo. Next was another from Voodoo Brewery, 4 Seasons IPA (8.0%) which according to the lads that make this suck ass chocolate IPA is a rotating release that is supposed to be a different recipe each season of the year. Bim said, "If I had brewed this, I'd walk around the neighborhood in my banana hammock with a chub". D-Rail proclaimed this to be "the Coors Light of IPA's" which was very astute of him. This one was so-so at best so we moved onward with a Heavy Seas Loose Cannon Hop3 IPA (7.25%). This hop-cubed ale is very drinkable and even though it claims to use 3 pounds of hops per barrel, it isn't overly hoppy at all. We finally decided to break out the D-Rail gift pack, starting with some new Canuck beers from a French-Canadian outfit called Brasserie Dieu Du Ciel (which Fred incorrectly interpreted to mean, "She has some big ole hooters", until the multi-lingual D-Rail chimed in that his Slovenian wet nurse had taught him how to speak fluent French and the words loosely meant the "God of the Sky" or "Heaven" restaurant. First up was Dieu Du Ciel Derniere Volonte (6.5%) which turned out to mean "last will". An abbey style ale, it was a typical Belgian style that was decent but nothing out of the ordinary. Dieu Du Ciel Corne Du Diable (6.5%) which we thought meant "chili con creamed corn" featured the devil with a goatee so big that according to Wilder "you could roast marshmallows on that sucker". This was a Belgian style IPA that was ok at best, but the label was swanky enough to elicit some praise from Bim, the resident art critic. River Horse Hop-A-Lot-Amus (8.5%) was a unfiltered double IPA that was simply ok and was not at all hoppy. It seems that many of the craft brew folks these days are spending more time on making up cutesy names rather than making beers that stand up to the designer label. Magic Hat Blind Faith IPA (6.2%) was offered next, and true to form, this was a watery mess that just didn't have any legs. IPA my ass exclaimed Wilder, and D-Rail put in his usual "this shit ain't as good as Bud Light". We then tried a Magic Hat Odd Notion Summer 2010 (5.5%). This ginger flavored bottle of crap was about as worthless as an ass tickling cum bubble. "Why the hell do they waste time with this shit" said Fred, as he went to pour his out. " I would rather lick the underside of a toilet seat at a truck stop than drink another ounce of this piss" said Wilder. To try and get the stench of this swill off our tongues, we moved to a Heavy Seas Peg Leg Imperial Stout (8.0%) which was as smoky as a Mississippi juke joint. Watery, but very tasty, this was a thin stout that at least rated a good and helped us erase the memories of the pooptastic Odd Notion. Dominion's Oak Barrel Stout (5.2%) was opened, and it was described by Snake as "a flat vanilla Coke". "Snap, Crackle and Stout", Prince Mike chimed in describing this weak ass brew that he said must have been made by the Keebler Elves. Another of D-Rails beers was brought to the table next, the Nogne O IPA (7.5%), a beer from Norway that was also a Belgian style IPA, that tasted better than the doo doo chili version and got a good. Bim produced another "beer" from the Magic Hat folks, #9 (5.1%), that was grape like in flavor without being too sweet. Easily the best beer these fools make, it was decent. The final beer of the evening was a Dieu Du Ciel Peche Mortel (9.5%) or "Mongo's Peach Sack" (really meaning Mortal Sin) was an imperial coffee stout that hit like a kick to the taint. This was probably the best beer of the night, and it had a remarkably easy drinkability so it rated a good. Upon finishing this one up we decided to call it a night as many of us had to work the next day, but fear not, we are fast approaching beer number 500, and we will have a special tasting to honor that feat. Until next time....don de doo motherfucka's.....

Wilder's Hodgepodge Sixer Night

Due to scheduling conflicts with work, the BC4M had another weekly meeting moved to a Wednesday. Snake, Bim, and Fred descended on casa de Wilder for a quick tasting session. With only 6 beers to rate, the night promised to be fast paced. First up was R.J. Rocker's Bell Ringer (8.5%) which was brought to us by one of J. Wilder's harem of beer smugglers who had risked life, limb and booty to score a few beers for us from the Piggy Wiggly (also known as Hoggly Woggly) in charming Goose Creek, South Carolina (or South Cackalacky for those in the know). This is easily the best beer RJ makes cause every other beer we try from him usually sucks. Smooth but not overpowering, this is a fortified malt grenade that smacks you in the chops and demands your respect. Everyone was surprised by the quality of this beer (maybe RJ was out of town and a guest brewer actually made this) and it got a solid good. Next up was Founders Old Curmudgeon Ale (9.8%) which featured an artists rendition of Fred's happier identical twin brother on the label. Sweet at first, the aftertaste left the feeling of having sipped a little fermented rhubarb, but the more we drank the better this got. "Apricot brandywine" said Johnny, and Fred chimed in "a sweet elixir, strong and rich". Bim stated "not thick, but still a great body" which we assumed he meant for the beer, not Wilder's cute labrador retriever. Ellicottsville Brewery's Pantius Droppus (11.5%) was next and it tasted like Tang in a bottle. Ladies, we agree the name is catchy and each member of the BC4M (with the possible exception of D-Rail) love to see a nice whaletail drop, but this crap was plain awful. It tasted so bad that Fred exclaimed, "this couldn't entice a $10 a night midget hooker to lose her grundle grippers", while Bim chimed in, "there is a reason why no one has ever heard of these guys, this shit sucks!" Most of us poured this napalm out with the exception of J. Wilder, who wouldn't throw out kerosene if it came from a beer bottle. Amazingly, it completely bleached a rust stain off the sidewalk when we tossed it out, so maybe it is good for something. Lancaster Brewing's Hop Hog IPA (7.9%) was perhaps the weakest IPA any of us had ever tasted. Perhaps the wild boar on the label had chewed up all the hops, or maybe the guys that brew this in Pennsylvania thought it was illegal to import hops for brewing. Either way, this was weak as hell and rated a sucks. To try and remove the bad taste from our mouths, we opened a Dogfish Head Squall IPA (9.0%). "Unfiltered, unfettered and unprecedented" shouted the bottle that supposedly contained a 90 minute IPA that was simple bottle conditioned and naturally fermented. It poured into the glass like the insides of a snow globe and Snake said, "this is like a bottle of dandruff, but it sure is tasty". A lithograph on the bottle showed the fabled schooner S.S. Manshank which according to the History channel had successfully fought off a marauding band of French transvestite privateers aboard the La Damisole Locheur (which we think means the "The Lucky Pierre") off the coast of Assateague Island in 1834. This was a fine beer that Bim stated was "basic but yet quite good". The final beer of the night was from the state of Oregon's Deschutes Brewery Obsidian Stout (6.4%). Brewed with the left overs from the lava flow of Mt Saint Helens this was stout like in taste and color (very smooth with strong coffee and chocolate malt flavor) but paper thin in body. It got a so-so as it simply wasn't an above par stout. When we drink a stout, we want to have a viscous fluid that pours like a pint of molasses in January. After we finished up this superficial stout, we adjourned for the evening. Snake and Bim had to work the next day but J. Wilder and Fred stayed up to watch the hilarious movie Snatch (Da ya like Dags? Dags? Yeah d'ya like dags? Oh you mean DOGS) and Saturday Night Live skits featuring classics like (I got a fever and the only prescription is more cowbell) to end the evening. Next up is our road trip to the World Beer Fest in Richmond. Come out and join us as we attempt to rate another 40 or 50 beers, or at least get hammered trying. Until then,we leave you with the immortal words of legendary rock producer Bruce Dickinson, "I gotta have more cowbell baby!"

Memorial Day Doubleheader

What is more quintessentially American on Memorial Day than apple pie, grilling out and a baseball doubleheader? Since we didn't have a pair of baseball games to attend, the BC4M decided to instead have a day-night beer tasting doubleheader. It was around 4 in the afternoon when Fred received a frantic text from Bim that exclaimed, "Get your ass over to Wilder's, we're drinkin". Hoping to get an official tasting in, Fred happily obliged and brought over some new beers he scored from the Craft Beer Outlet on a recent trip to Philly. While our better halves and kids frolicked in Johnny's Playboy mansion sized pool, the lads (Bim, J. Wilder, Fred and Snake) sojourned to the poolside cabana for some new taste experiences under a gorgeously cloudless day. Johnny brought out several new beers to go along with the new treats brought back from the cheesesteak capital of the world. First up was Evolution Exile ESB (5.8%), a Delaware microbrew that was decent and easy to drink but nothing special. Imagine if you will putting some Natty Light in a craft beer bottle and you would have some of this stuff. Sam Adams Pale Ale (5.25%) was next and let me tell you, Sammy should be drawn and quartered for putting this garbage out to the market. This is as much a pale ale as diet freaking sprite is. Hop free and flavor free, this was so-so at best and probably deserved a sucks. The next four beers all came from Old Dominion Brewing, (a little research shows that this outfit is 49% owned by Budweiser, WTF?) the Hop Mountain Pale Ale (5.6%) which was so-so (hop mountain must actually be the compost heap at the brewery, cause this sure as hell ain't hoppy at all), the Dominion Lager (5.6%) which was crisp, tightly balanced and decent, the Dominion Ale (4.7%) was utterly forgettable, and finally the newly created Beach House Golden Pilsner (5.2%) featured a Swiss family Robinson style beachside bungalow that looked as if Jimmy Buffet himself shacked up in it. This beer was perfect for a beach party and was light enough to drink all day and night. We moved on to another new seasonal, this time the Sam Adams Latitude 48 Pale Ale (5.8%). Brewed with hops from Germany, England and the U.S. that are all found on the 48th latitude, this is a refreshing, hoppy and satisfying beer. This is a great beer, one to enjoy while polishing off a few dozen oysters or perhaps with a nice brat or medium rare steak. Lion Brewery's Lionshead Lager (4.5%) which said "deluxe pilsner" on the bottle was a superb session beer. J. Wilder exclaimed, "I would sure as fuck drink a six kicker of this over Bud Light any day!" Next was another beer from Evolution Brewing, Lucky 7 Porter (5.8%), using 7 different malts, this was a chocolate and coffee flavored maltshake that was quite tasty. The opening round in our doubleheader then headed to extra innings as we found another couple of beers to try. While Fred scarfed down Bim's pistachios as fast as Takeru Kobayashi can wolf down 50 Nathans hot dogs, we opened a Blue Mountain Brewery Full Nelson (5.9%). This is made nearby in the hill country of Afton, Va, yet it tasted like it was instead made in the Proctor & Gamble plant while they were mixing up a batch of Purex laundry soap so it rated a sucks. The final beer of the afternoon was Capitol Square Imperial Doppelbock (6.0%). This beer was thin but very drinkable, and surprisingly light in color. We all wondered if this would be better classified as a bock, but it was tasty nonetheless and it rated a good. We then ended the first session and went to get ready for the offerings from the award winning grill master himself, Bim. He told us he had meticulously seasoned and marinated a 47lb tri-tip roast and was ready to serve the gluttonous horde of carnivores that were to arrive at his backyard patio.

While we awaited the dinner bell to ring, Fred received another text, this time from Frank the Tank that said he wanted to bring a few "beeahs" over to the cookout. Tank had somehow convinced his hometown cousins Carmine the Guinea and Vinnie Knuckles to allow him to "export" some of New Jersey's craft brews to his Dixie brethren in the BC4M. After paying a "shake down" fee to the goombah longshoremen crew that handles the "import/exports", Tank got to bring back a few beers (in the front seat of a 1972 candy apple red Ford Torino nonetheless) from the Flying Fish Brewing Company. Coupled with some more of the stash that Fred had assembled from the City of Brotherly love we convened in "da boardroom" (otherwise known as the kitchen) at Don Capo di Bim's (or as we refer to him, The Bimfather) for another round of tasting. First up was Exit 4 American Trippel (9.5%) which while tasting as smooth as a classic Frank Sinatra tune was thin in the body yet also sweet and tasty so it rated a good. Next was a Flying Fish Belgian Style Dubbel (7.3%) that was as thin as one of the "dancers" at the Bada Bing but still decent. We then moved to a Flying Fish ESB Amber Ale (5.5%) which was about as non descript as a beer can be. This stuff had no heart and no flavor, so it got a so-so. After downing the last of the Jersey beer with a hearty salude! we opened a bottle of Smuttynose IPA (6.9%). The KrazyItalianIrish girl had once opined that perhaps the label boasted a future likeness of the BC4M when they got a little more seasoned (i.e. old as fuck). Upon closer inspection, it does in fact look like Wilder and Fred as old timers, so thanks for the heads up little lady as our future selves look like dried up and crusty cornback bull vipers. The beer itself was very dry and not refreshing, and in the famous words of Snake, "I am dry as toast over here". Drinking one of these was like drinking a bottle of Sahara desert sand, as it left us dehydrated and in need of intravenous fluids. Thankfully, before Bim could get out his 12 gauge needles, we popped the cap off of a few beers from a newcomer to the waterfront in Philly, Yards Brewing Company. We started off with Yards Brewing Co. IPA (7.0%) which was excellent in taste but was not an IPA by any means. This should be classified as a pale ale, since it isn't hoppy at all, but it is still quite good. We then poured a Yards Brewing Co. Thomas Jefferson Tavern Ale (8.0%) which was said to have been brewed with "authentic ingredients". Evidently, what they meant by that is the malt is over 200 years old, and this swill tasted like it was brewed with some of Sally Hemming's bed sweat. Next was Yards Brewing Co. Brawler (4.2%). A "pugilist" style ale featuring a label that had Bill the Butcher from Gangs of New York putting the gunt butter to the Devil himself, this beer was very good and although it only packed a 4.2% kick, it would make an ideal beer for an all nighter . Only two beers remained, so we pulled out an Ommegang BPA (Belgian Pale Ale 6.2%), that tasted like it was made with about 6 tons of candy sugar cause this was sweeter than famous New York lavender suspender wearing mobster Tony "Stilleto Heels" Malvoroni. This rated a so-so since it made us all need an insulin injection to overcome the sweetness, although Fred is generally so grumpy, he should probably drink this stuff by the case. The final beer of the evening was another sour ale from our new friends at Russian River Brewing, Consecration (10.0%). This is an ale aged in cabernet sauvignon barrels with currants added for good measure. Once again, Bim said "not my cup of tea", while Tank's facial expression said something along the lines of "that shit is sour as fuck!" Only Johnny Wilder and Fred liked the taste but once you get over the fact that you just drank a bottle of sour patch kids, you realize its actually quite good. Like the tasting of Supplication on an earlier night, the mixed reviews prevailed and this got a so-so. With that, the games were over, and we trudged home with a spring in our steps knowing that we had preserved that great American doubleheader tradition of grilling and drinking.