So they call it Friendship Day

The weekend started out early as we gathered at Bim's on Friday evening to celebrate his last hurrah in the so-called swinging 40's (so called because of the miracle of a little pill known as Cialis that has "raised " his level of play). We toasted his last year as a 40-something by sharing a bottle of Flying Dog Wild Dog Barrel Aged Imperial Porter (9.5%). A "snarling raging bitch" said Bim as he eagerly lapped up the dark rich chocolate goodness that filled his glass. Not too much heat was added from the barrel aging, so this was one special treat and it rated a good. Since this wasn't an official meeting, we went back to drinking from the keg and made plans for a tasting the next night since the ladies of the hood were gonna be gathered at Fred's for a celebration of friendship. Evidently, the saps at Hallmark or perhaps Lifetime (Entertainment for Women and Ladyboys) have decided to invent a holiday where people get suckered into buying more greeting cards and watching cheesy made for tv movies like "Mother, may I sleep with danger?" What is this awesome new holiday you ask? Well its called Friendship Day and supposedly it was created by Congress in 1935. Apparently, we needed a special day set aside to let our friends know that they are indeed our friends. Fred said "thats a stupid fucking reason for a holiday" and hadn't realized this day even existed until his charming bride decided to play hostess to the ladies of the hood for a little vino and relaxation on the deck. All of the neighbors were invited as it was sorta like a flamingo, only no kids were involved. Most of the regulars were off doing other things, and Big Mike and Snake along with their better halves couldn't make it since they were out of town competing in an Junior AARP shuffleboard tournament. This left Fred, J Wilder and Bim to sit around the fire pit and consume a "few" beers in honor of this glorious holiday. First up was Super Bock Sabor Autentico (5.2%) which was probably made in some third world jungle by a group of Machete wielding guerrillas and tasted like a bad case of trench foot. Since 1927 proclaimed the bottle, yet with a taste this awful, we wondered how it had made it to 1928. "This is fucking awful" said Fred, as this skunky watery mess would probably give the average person dysentery and it rated a sucks. We thankfully moved on to Mad River Brewing Steelhead Extra Stout (6.5%). "Stout my ass" said Bim, as this thin bodied beer was as much a stout as a bottle of Coors Light although unlike Coors it was still drinkable. Since it was such a poor example of the stout style, it only garnered a so-so. Breckenridge Oatmeal Stout (4.95%) was a bland bottle of Quaker Oats without flavor and bite. Dark but certainly not delicious, this was a disappointment and earned a sucks. "Hey, I thought we were friends" said Wilder, "Cause friends don't let friends drink shitty beers". We hoped to salvage our evening with the opening of a Laughing Dog Alpha Dog IPA (8.7%). Very hoppy but with a crisp dry finish, this one was a solid good. Rogue Morimoto Black Obi Soba Ale (4.8%) was next. "Ahh" exclaimed Bim, "The Iron Chef also makes beer". The bottle design was a Rising Sun overlaid with some mysterious Kanji writing. Our resident Japanese cultural attache, Bim said it translated to mean "Immaculate Smoothginer ", which probably denotes something smooth, wet and delicious. Over-carbonated but still tasty, this one produced a frothy head like a root-beer float but once the bubbles had decayed away, the remains were pretty good. We moved on to a four pack of beers from one of our newest favorites in the craft beer world, 3 Floyd's. Brought to us by our pal Cliffy upon his triumphant return home following his crowning as Tippecanoe County Indiana Corn Cob Festival King, we delved into a 3 Floyd's Pride and Joy (6.5%). This is their base beer, an American mild ale that was simply great. "I wish we could get a keg of this shit" said Bim, as we all agreed this was an awesome session beer that rated a really good. Next was 3 Floyd's Brian Boru (5.9%) , an old Irish red ale that was also excellent. "Fuck, these guys are good" said Wilder as we wished we had more of this flavorful elixir. Hoping we could continue the trend, we opened a 3 Floyd's Alpha King (6.0%). This is their version of a pale ale and it was easily the best pale ale we have ever tasted, it too was really good. The final beer from them was 3 Floyd's Robert the Bruce (6.5%). A scottish style ale, this was simply outstanding and was sweet and malty without having a peat like flavor that is prevalent in most scotch ales. "Another fucking winner" said Bim, as we again declared it a really good. Thinking we would continue to hit the proverbial jackpot, we reached for the next beer and got an Oaken Barrel Brewing Co. Snake Pit Porter (6.0%). Highly fizzy with no taste, this was a letdown and rated a so-so. Another bottle from Rogue, Double Rogue Double Mocha Porter (8.2%) was next and it was a huge improvement over the Snake Pit as Bim declared it to be the best porter he had ever tasted and it too got a really good. We moved on Sierra Nevada Tumbler (5.5%) which is their new autumnal release. We enjoy their Glissade and Pale Ale as session beers, and this one is also quite good. Flavorful but not too powerful, this one will keep you upright and slinging mack to the ladies all evening long. Another stellar session beer, this one is keg worthy. Evolution Craft Brewing Primal Pale Ale (5.0%) featured a picture of a rabid female bulldog on the cover baying at the moon. "Not bad" said Wilder, as we thought this one was a good. Yards Brewing ESA Extra Special Ale (6.0%) was also very tasty and got a good, while their Poor Richards Tavern Spruce (5.0%) was a odd mixture of molasses, spruce tips and sprigs. "What the fuck?" asked Fred, "They trying to win a boy scout survival badge?" We all were in amazement that they had actually used spruce tips to liven up this odd concoction that was merely a so-so. We were moving past the stages of buzzed and onto pure drunkendom, so we agreed to end the night after we tried the final three beers in the cooler. All three are special collaboration beers, whereby three different brewers get together and make a batch of beer, then take the recipe and brew it again at the other two locations. Dogfish Head/Victory/Stone's Saison Du Buff (6.8%) was another mishmash of kitchen supplies that left us pondering WTF. Parsley, rosemary and thyme were the key ingredients to what Wilder thought was a new chicken recipe. "You know fellas," said Bim, "this shit aint half bad" although the contents of the bottle looked like dishwasher liquid. It rated a good, so we moved on to a 21st Amendment/Firestone Walker/Stone El Camino (Un)Real Black Ale (9.5%). If you thought the last beer had some weird shit in it, imagine our surprise as Fred read that this beer was brewed with pink peppercorns, fennel seed, chia seed and mission figs. Evidently, from the brew master, these were the crops that were grown in the 1800's by the settlers of the land in California known as "El Camino Real". "Hell, I thought an El Camino was just a dope ass ride" said Wilder as we again were shocked that the beer tasted pretty damn good despite the menagerie of ingredients. The final collaboration beer, was BrewDog/Cambridge/Stone Juxtaposition Black Pilsner (10.0%). This beer poured black as night, and was awash in flavors. "Fuck that is amazing" said Bim, as Fred declared, "this shit is out fuckin standing". Wilder mentioned, "I won't lie, I love this fucking shit" while we decided that this one had crossed the boundaries from merely really good to the elite class of RFG. "This is the Black Dynamite" of beers my righteous brothers, said the jive talking peacock strutting J. Wilder as we toasted to great friendship and great beers. As we stumbled home, we thought that even though Friendship Day was a made up holiday, we at least got to drink some beers, so it maybe it isn't so useless after all.

The Prodigal Son returns

--------- Faster leaving a BC4M meeting than an Alcoholics Anonymous Sponsor

--------- More elusive than the mighty Sasquatch

--------- Able to skip BC4M meetings for weeks on end with no remorse

Look everyone, its an incoming text message. Is it a spam message trying to get you to buy a year long supply of Enzyte to "enhance" your performance? Is it your broker reminding you that your 401k just dropped 5000 big ones in one day? NO!, Its 10pm Branigan and he is volunteering to host a BC4M meeting. As the Founding Fathers rejoiced that their long lost brother had finally returned to the fold, we wondered where he had been for these long months. J. Wilder opined that perhaps 10pm had simply given up beer since he had been rumored to be training for the Ironman Triathlon. Bim declared, "Maybe he shaved his head and joined that Hare Krishna cult that begs for money at airports." Fred wondered, "Perhaps he has been out in Vegas headlining his new night show act "Macho Macho Men". Whatever the case may be, we were happy to assemble at 10pm's compound for another round of beer tasting. The beers were pulled from the cooler, and it looked as if the bottles to be sampled represented each of the major countries from World War 2. As we gathered around the hand stained mahogany Ryukyu pine table that 10pm had received for winning the Great White Devil square dancing contest that is held every summer in Okinawa, we were greeted outside by a fairly violent summer thunderstorm. As the skies filled with 40 million-volt bolts of lightning and the tremendous boom of crashing thunder shook the house, we opened up our first beer, Joseph Brau Stockyard Oatmeal Stout (5.0%). This was one of three beers 10pm had brought back from the local Trader Joes, who happen to get their beer made for them by prominent craft breweries like Firestone Walker and Gordon Biersch. This one is contract brewed by one of our favorite brewers, Goose Island and while decent, the body was dark and viscous and the stout flavors were so prominent that it was called a "sipper, not a session" beer by Crazy Ken. A so-so was the result. Next was Trader Joe's Hofbrau Bock (7.0%). A self described "rich golden bock beer", this tastes exactly like the Gordon Biersch Blonde Bock and was probably the exact same recipe. Even the bottle top looks like a typical GB cap, and since it tasted the same it too got a good. Next was Trader Joe's Bavarian Hefeweizen (5.3%). As we cracked the top, we noticed Bim had leapt from the table to take cover behind the sofa in the living room. "What the crap? asked Fred. Bim retold the story of how as a young Catholic schoolboy he had visited his grandfathers "massage parlor" in Dusseldorf, Germany. One day he found himself in the cellar looking through the floor at a couple performing what he would later learn was the Viennese Oyster. A torrential thunderstorm developed, and as the lightning illuminated the dark and musty cellar, and before Bim could pull his pants up, he was caught "redhanded" by a local nun who had sought shelter from the rain. She proceeded to shriek in horror at the sight of Bim punching the clown and subsequently chased him out into the rain with a shovel that was hanging on the wall. The now pantless Bim narrowly avoided being struck by lighting as he scurried into the kitchen to escape the mortified sister. To this day, lightning storms bring back those treasured memories of that enchanted afternoon to our beloved brother. Seeing as no nuns were actually at the BC4M meeting, we resumed our tasting of this Hefeweizen. Typical of most wheat beers, the clove flavors dominated, and the bottle looked like the inside of a lava lamp due to all the floaties in it. Bim said, "Looks like a urinary tract infection in a bottle", while 10pm said he thought it was good. Since everyone didn't care for it, we gave it a so-so. Orion Premium Draft Beer (5.0%) was next, and we had tasted it before, but never in an official setting. Excellent, crisp and refreshing, this is a great beer and other than Crazy Ken calling it "about a good", the rest of us gave it a really good rating. Brewery Ommegang Hennepin (7.7%) was poured next. This is a Belgian-style saison that is cellared and bottle conditioned. Supposedly named after the friar that had discovered Niagara Falls, this was a solid good that had subdued hints of sour that were balanced with a warm finish. Next was Christian Moerlien Northern Liberties IPA (6.3%). This is a throwback beer to the liberal days of the mid 19th century. The label had what looked like Lady Gaga dressed as Lady Liberty sucking down a cold beer. The back of the bottle described the area of northern Cincinnati that had been deemed "loose" with respect to the laws of the day. This one reminds you of that spunky pixie that could charm you in an instant with her smile, but also had a tree hugging "peace, love, and don't hurt the animals" side that you could never quite curtail. The beer was merely ok, as the bottle label showed more effort than the beer itself and so it rated a so-so. Next was Southern Tier IPA (6.5%), which was drinkable and not super hoppy. This is the type of IPA that you can drink a lot of, and still have the enamel on your teeth, unlike some of the hopsicles that are on the market today. The last beer of the evening was another IPA, this time the Russian River Blind Pig IPA (6.1%). This is an amazing beer, not quite as good as its sister beer, Pliny the Elder, but a light crisp taste is balanced perfectly with the bold hop flavors. Crazy Ken is not a hophead, so he thought it was simply ok, but the rest of the group loved it and called it a really good. Snake said, "This is some tasty stuff boys, I could drink a whole mess of this". As we finished our glasses, we noticed the clock had struck 10pm, and as you loyal fans know, thats the witching hour for our host. After we thanked him for hosting, the group left for the night as Snake and Crazy Ken had to work the next morning. Bim and Fred ventured over to J. Wilder's for a nightcap since he had missed the meeting due to a last minute scheduling conflict. We arrived to find the daring fashion coordinator of the BC4M hard at work for the new Polo style shirt we will be sporting for the upcoming fall CHC Beerfest (get your tickets now before they are gone). We opened an Alesmith Yulesmith Holiday (Summer) Ale (8.5%) which was said to be a super hopped Imperial IPA. "Damn that shit is good" said Wilder, as Fred and Bim both agreed that this was a damn fine beer. Full of flavor and hopped enough to curl your tongue, this one rated a really good. Out of beers to rate, we cracked open a few previously reviewed beers and turned on a BC4M classic, Dodgeball. Another stellar night was in the books, and more importantly a Founding Father was re-discovered. Until next time, remember, keep your fly shut and your beer cold.

Celebrating Reinheitsgebot

It was a warm and humid Friday evening in the hood and we had gathered at Johnny Wilder's house for our weekly BC4M meeting. Johnny, as many of you know, is an avid extreme sports fanatic, and has traveled the globe in search of ever more intense sporting feats to try his hand at. From skeet shooting with automatic weapons to playing golf on horseback, he will do whatever it takes to push the limits. This past winter, he had journeyed to his ancestral homeland of Austria to try his luck at a new level of sporting insanity, topless luge. While he was there, he had been given a gift from his uncle, Johan Franz Longendinger; a leather bound family journal detailing the exploits of Wilder's paternal great-great-great grandfather, Field Marshal Wilhelm Heinrich von Assengrauber. The Field Marshal was a Bavarian officer that had opposed the idea of German unification in the late 1800's unless the Reinheitsgebot or Purity Order was recognized by all parties involved. He was a dedicated zymurgist that had made what was considered at the time, the best beer in all of Bavaria, the Pfostenschwalbe Pilsner or as your prim and proper English butler Jeeves would say, "perhaps another Pole Swallower Pilsner sir?" Known throughout the local hamlets and villages as the beer that grabbed hold of your tongue and wouldn't let go till you were satisfied, this light lager was also a favorite among the hard working Baltic Sea stevedores that needed to relax their heavy loads. To celebrate the Reinheitsbegot and the Wilder family tradition of adventure seeking, we opened a bottle from the first brewery in America to earn that coveted distinction, Christian Moerlein. The Friend of an Irishman Stout (4.7%) was in one word, SUCKS. This one tasted like a Guinness Light and smelled like the burnt coffee from a power plant coffee machine that had been left on for 4 days. We have had some good Moerlein beers, but it seems that maybe being labeled as pure doesn't always translate into good taste. Next was Uinta Labyrinth Black Ale (13.2%). Sporting a label that had one of those eye-glazing mazes on the cover, we dove into this "ale aged in oak barrels". This one had a definite cocoa taste to it, and Fred mentioned that it tasted like a "bowl of cocoa krispies with a hint of trouble" and it rated a good. The next bottle, Stone Emperial 14th Anniversary IPA (8.9%) featured a picture of a steroid injecting gargoyle with what looked like two gigantic johnsons hanging from his loins. "What the hell are they trying to do, ruin every available woman in the world for me? I can't compete with one dick that big, much less two" said the only single member of the group, D-Rail. Bim laughed and told him, "You know, women must be the only sex with ESP, because they always know if men are gonna get laid". The bottle also featured an ode to Yeates on the back, as it went on and on about seafaring vessels, three-toed albino howler monkeys, and other nonsense that is typical of Stone. This one was decent and got a so-so. We then moved onto a slew of beers that Bim had brought back from the Party Source in Kentucky. This is actually a Home Depot sized place that has thousands of beers. Hoping he had found some new members for the RFG council, we opened four beers from Berghoff, which is actually contract brewed by Minhas Brewing. Sundown Dark (5.6%) is probably the worst beer we have ever tasted. "This shit is worse than Horse Piss Beer" shouted Fred as he immediately poured his out. This is the kind of beer that you would only serve to those maniacal haji-haji terrorists as a means of torture and even then, the Supreme Court would say it was cruel and unusual punishment. The true definition of sucks, we then tried a Berghoff Solstice Wit Bier (5.1%). They claim to be America's second oldest brewery, so Bim said, "You would think after all this time they would get better, but they sure as fuck haven't". This one smelled like the dead skunk you caught whiff of 3 miles before you actually see him lying in the road and tasted just as bad. Another sucks, so we then tried a Berghoff Pale Ale (5.8%) that was a little better only because it didn't suck so bad, so it got a so-so. We thankfully came to the end of the Berghoffs with a Traditional Bock Beer (5.4%). Frank the Tank said, "more like a traditional bottle of shit" as we spit out the remains of this skank ass beer. Hoping to better our evening, we cracked into an Outer Banks Brewing Santa's Little Helper (10%). This one tasted like drinking a hot toddy and even though the spicy noted outshone the hops and malts, this one got a good. Next was Left Hand Brewing Co. Smoked 2007 Goosinator Doppelbock Lager (7.2%). Like watching a momma duck lead her hungry chicks to the lake, we anxiously anticipated Bim pouring us each a glass of this highly rated beer. A difference of opinions developed with this one. "Tastes like burnt rubber meets jack links beef jerky" said Fred, while Wilder exclaimed, "snap into a left hand!". "This is drinkable for sure" said D-Rail while Snake said, "tastes like a greasy deer hoof". This one was a so-so for some and good to others. Next was Ballast Point Big Eye IPA (6.0%). Snake told of us the time back in 1993 when he had taken his boat, Booty Town Express , out for a day trip along with a bevy of pigtailed Danish softball players that were in town for a tournament. They had chartered Snakes boat because he was known the world over as The man for catching the infamous horse-eye jack featured on the label. "What a day it was boys" said Snake, "nothing beats watching a pair of dd's reeling in the ole big eye". As we howled in laughter, we loved the taste of this beer and gave it a really good. Next was a pair of beers from Mikkeller, the Beer Geek Brunch Weasel (10.9%). This is a unique beer, because it tasted like a cup of Starbucks dark Italian roasted coffee with just a hint of alcohol. Fred said he liked it, but when he read the label that said it had been brewed with coffee recovered from civet cat dung, we all about threw up in our mouthes. "Holy shit" said Bim, "this shit is made from shit?" The group encyclopedia, Fred, said he had heard about the immense amounts of money people pay for getting coffee beans that have been eaten by the civet cat and then pooped out. "A fool and his money soon part" said Tank as we all recoiled in horror at the thought of drinking any more of this "crap". Another Mikkeller, Jackie Brown (6.0%) was a brown ale that reminded us of one of the BC4M all time favorite movies, Black Dynamite. This one was very tasty, and as we drank this really good beer down, we were treated to a now obviously inebriated Tank's spot on rendition of the Who classic, "I can see for miles". The next two beers were from Germany, Aecht Schlenterla Rauchbier's Urbock (6.5%) and Marzen (5.1%). Both of these beers poured like the remains of a charcoal pit and tasted even worse. The smokey taste permeated everything, and the tasting glasses had to be steam cleaned to remove the charred odor. Fred remarked, "I would rather drink a microwaved Tactical Nuclear Penguin than this toxic waste", while Bim added, "Hitler died for this?". The beer tasted as if the burned out cinders from the Dresden fire bombings of WWII were used as a base material. Both of these ashtrays rated a sucks and after we thoroughly cleansed our tasting glasses (with a mixture of hydrochloric acid, all temperature Cheer and baking soda) we moved on to a five pack of beers from Schlafly. This brewery is located in St Louis, and is supposedly developing a reputation for putting out some quality beers. Schlafly Pilsner (4.8%) was more hoppy than the typical Pilsner and rated a so-so, Schlafly Helles Style Summer Lager (4.5%) was an alcohol free Miller Lite wanna be and rated a so-so, Schlafly Kolsch Ale (4.8%) was very drinkable and was easily the best Kolsch style we had tasted and it got a good, Schlafly ESB (6.2%) was lighter than the typical bitter, but was decent and it got a so-so, and the final Schalfly, Dry Hopped American Pale Ale (5.9%) was a great session beer, not overly hopped and easy going down the hatch so it rated a good. "I could drink this damn beer all fucking night" said D-Rail. As we drunkenly moved forward, we opened a New Holland Night Tripper Imperial Stout (10.8%). The label boasted a cross between what looked like the clown face from Saw VI with the demonic Chucky doll which caused BC4M's champion pugilist Tank to say, "I used to crack skulls on dipshits that looked like that back in the day". This one poured like an ice cold glass of chocolate milk and was really good. Smooth as a bowl of ice cream, it went down easy and left us wanting more. Thornbridge Brewery Halcyon IPA (7.7%) had a picture of a topless Medusa we christened Flora on the label which caused D-Rail to pontificate on the frightening memory he had of his childhood Brazilian nanny who had forced him to join her in the tub to wash and braid her dreadlocks on a weekly basis. The beer however, was much better than the imagery of a 300 pound dreadlocked wearing senorita that had been D-Rails introduction to the mysterious world of women and it rated a really good. Another beer from New Holland, El Mole Ocho (8.0%) was next and it tasted like a bottled mixture of ancho chiles, chocolate syrup and butt crack sweat. "This is terrible" said Fred, while somehow both Bim and Wilder didn't seem to mind the funky taste. So-so to good was the result, so we kept going, this time with a Southern Tier Farmer's Red Tan (9.0%). This one was supposedly an Imperial Pale Lager, but none of us had ever seen a beer in this style before. Quite tasty, we gave it a good and pulled out the final two bottles of this incredible night. Fuller's 2008 Vintage Ale No. 110613 (8.5%) was sweet and filling, like the kisses you got from that girl who you thought was off limits but somehow found your rugged good looks irresistible. This one was also really good and we would drink more of this anytime we can get some. The final beer was Stone Old Guardian Barleywine (11.26%). This one hit you in the stomach like the sugar rush you get from eating an entire white chocolate cheesecake, but it was still quite good. As we stumbled out of Wilder's compound, we raised our glasses for one final toast to celebrate great beers and great friends......PROST!

Officer Mr. T's Sunset Serenade

To summon a BC4M meeting, we generally receive a text from our disgraced scout leader Bim. He will send out an invite to all hands and suggest a location or perhaps ask if someone is interested in hosting. This week brought a new host to the group as Officer Mr. T declared that his well stocked armory would serve as our meeting place. Officer Mr.T or (OMT) as no one actually calls him, had his "Leave it to Beaver" style mansion all to his lonesome for the week. His bride was out of town singing backup vocals with her favorite band Journey for their Summer 2010 "Spandex and Aquanet" tour, so he made a command decision to host. Since he normally teaches his advanced satin macrame class or progressive fundamentals of Egyptian kung-fu at the local senior center on Thursday nights, we moved the session to Wednesday. The host sets the time for the meeting, and since OMT had to be up early for a sunrise hot lava rock yoga session we started the meeting at 630 pm. An all-star cast showed up, as 8 members of the BC4M and one of OMT's oldest friends assembled around his 250 year old Scandinavian coastal spruce dining room table to try a new set of beers. This marked the largest turn out ever for a meeting, but perhaps this was also because OMT is an accomplished sous chef. Snake had recently returned from an African safari where he had slain a half dozen Madagascan bush pigs. Known for their succulent meat throughout sub-equatorial Africa, Snake had brought back a freezer full of pork shoulders for us to make into barbecue. OMT did his best Iron Chef Nakamura impersonation as he whipped up a platter of pulled chipotle infused pork with a side of roasted red potatoes with a mango chutney demi-glace, along with Peruvian white asparagus. "Damn, this shit is tasty" proclaimed Bim, as we began to open our newest beers. Before we got our first beer open OMT declared that he would be in charge of the tunes for the night as he had been displeased by the docile, granola infused offerings from Bim's Ipod from a previous meeting. Let me tell you, its a damn good thing OMT is married, cause there ain't nothing more alarming than having a group of grown men listening to Anne Murray and Celine Dion and the fucking BackStreet Boys emanating from a sound system. Unless your under 14, over 65 or used to having a meat pole stuffed in all your appendages, this sure as fuck isn't music for drinking beer too. As Fred mentioned, "Its like OMT downloaded his Ipod tunes from a Broadway musical turd burglar." First up was Rivertown Brewing Co. Hop Bomber Pale Ale (?%). A decent beer, it had an almost IPA like flavor even though the bottle claimed it to be sporting over 60 IBUs. So-so to good was declared and we moved on to a Hudy Delight Light Beer (3.9%). It should be considered a felony to even consider this swill to be beer. In fact, Fred said, "I bet there is more alcohol in my morning piss than in this twaddle". The label featured two queer stags rutting on each other and proclaimed to be proudly brewed since 1885. This was a cidery, watery version of what Snake called "ass monkey" beer, and so it rated a sucks. Bluegrass Brewing Co. American Pale Ale (6.0%) was cracked next, and it featured a cock-eyed label, obviously placed on the bottle by one of the inebriated chimpanzees on the bottling line. This was in the words of Crazy Ken, "about as hoppy as a pile of freshly cut zoysia grass" so it only rated a so-so. OMT provided us the next three beers, all from Peter Straub Brewing. Special Dark (4.1%) had a weird malt flavor that left us gasping for water to cleanse our tongues so it got a sucks rating, Premium (4.1%) was so light, we could, according to Prince Mike "guzzle this shit by the case" and it got a so-so. The final Straub beer, Straub Light (3.2%) was another watery mess of nothingness. The bottles all stated "honestly fresh" which Fred said should instead read "honestly mediocre". A new beer from Wisconsin, Horny Goat Hopped Up N' Horny American Pale Ale (5.3%) was offered next. This one has another label with two confused animals on it, this time, two metrosexual billygoats flexing their cloven hooves as if to say "hellllllllllooooooooo dahhhhhhlings". This is an embarrassment to brewers worldwide as this is so piss poor, Bim declared, "only drink this if your dying". If we could come up with a category worse than sucks, this would be the poster child for it as this is simply putrid. Amazed that someone could actually have the nads to bottle this filth, we moved on to a North Coast Old Stock Ale (11.7%). Tasting like a bowl of grape Nehi mixed with some of the liquid known to street gangs as "tussin", this reminded Crazy Ken of his favorite crunktastic roadie, Dragon Joose. Bim remarked, "is that a brewers loogie in the bottom?", so we all quickly lost our appetite for another shot of this so-so concoction. Next was Lexington Brewing's Kentucky Ale (5.34%). This is the official beer of the Alltech World Equestrian Games (whatever the fuck that is). Prince Mike said he had seen the 2009 games, as brought to life on ESPN 8 "The Ocho" and had been captivated by them one sleepless night while channel surfing. "I'm telling you boys, you ain't lived till you seen a Clydesdale fart his ABC's while wearing sunglasses and yellow galoshes." As we rolled in laughter, we tasted what turned out to be a not to shabby beer. This one would be perfect for a crisp fall evening as it is light and refreshing without making you feel like you just ate a barrel full of oats. Next was Abita Jockamo IPA (6.5%) which had a picture on the bottle that looked like that socialist maniac Hugo Chavez dressed as an Indian (feather not dot). The BC4M is about as politically correct as Andrew Dice Clay, but even we wondered how an India Pale Ale (India as in "would you like a slushie") could use American Injuns on the cover. From what we can tell, Sitting Bull and Pocahontas weren't making craft beer for the jolly old Brits in India back in the day. During a mid session debate on the pros and cons of colonial imperialism, Fred added, "just nuke the bastards and be done with it". We then tried a Founders Backwoods Bastard (10.2%). This was one shit kicker of a beer. Featuring a label that was either a stunning rendition of Popcorn Sutton or Gandolf the Grey from LOTR, we found ourselves immersed in a ale age in oak barrels that packed quite a wallop. This beer smacked you in the mouth like the feeling you got when that hot ass bosomy blond you saw for the first time came up and gave you a sexy "hey boy" greeting. This had a sweet bourbony taste without being too strong and it got a very good, almost to the point of RFG. Moving on, we opened a Green Flash Brewing Co. Imperial IPA (9.4%). Another of the west coast style IPAs that we have grown fond of recently, this one boasted an amazing 101 IBU's and was super hoppy. Tasty, but not as smooth as the creme de la creme of IPA's (of course I am referring to Pliny) it still rated a good. The next two beers were gifts from Fred's marathon running coworker Ricardo Rubenstein. Ricardo, or Ruby as he is affectionately known, is a champion marathoner who has won multiple races up and down the east coast. He had recently visited New England to race in the 14th annual Vermonster mud run, a 15 mile sprint through an obstacle course that featured a crossing over some class 6 river rapids, a 3500 foot sprint through a crack house lined ghetto and a finish that traversed 3 miles of pothole infested Burlington city streets. After winning the race by a photo finish, Ruby had stopped by a nearby brew pub for a 12 pack to bring back to the lads in the BC4M. Cottrell Brewing Co Mystic Bridge IPA (5.9%) was decent but didn't have the strong hoppy finish we come to expect from IPA's. Bim said, "looks like they missed the damn bridge" so it got a so-so. Next was Cottrell Brewing Co. Old Yankee Ale (5.0%). This one featured a picture of Popcorn riding in his jonboat, probably out noodling for channel cats. This one was also decent, so it rated a so-so to good. Out of the cooler next was a Lancaster Brewing Co. Milk Stout (5.3%). As Bim poured us a round of this beer brewed with lactose, we heard another of OMT's classic man-love ballads, Styx's 1970's AM radio staple "Babe". J. Wilder exclaimed, "somebody is gonna be getting some ass tonight!", while Fred chimed in, "Just when I thought this night couldn't get any gayer, you had to go and play this shit". The beer was decent, but it had a subtle "charred" flavor that reminded some of us of a bourbon barrel beer. We then went to a Yards Brewing General Washington Tavern Porter (7.0%). This one was so smooth, and easy drinking, we forgot that it was a porter. Definitely get your mitts on a few of these as it is quite tasty and garnered a good. Up next was a bomber from Alesmith, Decadence Anniversary Ale (11.0%). This one was amazing and Crazy Ken said, "This is like a punch to the throat, but damn this is good". This one was smooth and flavorful with a strong kick and it was rated a very good. Allagash Brewing Black Belgian Style Stout (7.5%) was opened next. The bottle was corked and as Fred slowly pried the top off, it shot towards the roof with the force of an Apollo rocket. The cork narrowly missed destroying the 18th century antique ceiling fan that Officer Mr. T had painstakingly restored while on a ghost hunting trip to Romania during his Miami Vice fashion phase. Thankful that no damage was done, we were rewarded with a solid stout that while thinner than normal still had a good flavor. The final beer of the night, Firestone Walker Parabola Barrel Aged Imperial Stout (13.0%) was then poured. Darker than a stormy winter night, this was one excellent beer. Subtle chocolate, vanilla, and toffee notes were followed with a smooth bourbon finish. "Amazing" said Bim, while even Wilder (noted for his lack of appeal for bourbon barrel beers) exclaimed, "that shit is fucking awesome". We looked around and decided, we had indeed tasted an RFG. Crazy Ken, looked at us and said, "RFG my ass!, this is nothing more than a so-so." We ignored his ramblings and added another stellar member to the pantheon of elite beers. We ended the meeting and as we headed for the door, we were serenaded with the sacchariny sounds of perhaps the worst song of the 1980's Chicago's "You're the Inspiration". We ran out of the house before we all had to hurl due to exposing our tender eardrums to such god-awful "music", but maybe OMT was simply outsmarting us by forcing us to leave so he could go put his argyle pj's on and catch the latest offerings on Skinemax. A great night, great food and great laughs, but damn that music has got to go brother.........Until next time, we leave you with another soft rock classic, a tribute to any evening you get with the BC4m....."Even the Nights are Better"

On the Rogue Again ...

Note: some names have been changed to protect the guilty.

After a simple text in honor of one BC4M member's favorite German World Cup star "ze Meatstacker," Bartles implored James to join him on a quick drinking session before an out-of-town trek. The two converged at Gordon Biersch in Virginia Beach's Town Center area and chatted about CJ's, YJ's and TJ's (if you've got to ask, you can't afford it) and the possibility of the krazy italian-irish girl performing naked table dances at the Rusty Rudder over Marzen (5.6%) and Sommer Brau (5.0%), a Kolsch-style, light-bodied beer with citrus and coriander tones. Conversation then delved into the latest, Tolkien-esque BC4M blog posting and the contrary idea of James being loquacious, and Bartles then spoke of a new microbrew oasis in Virginia Beach: the Lynnhaven Pub. James, in disbelief as his memories of the "Pube" included clouds of smoke, waitresses on their way to the night shift at an Open House Diner down the road, stale Bud Light and even staler Miller Lite, reluctantly said to Bartles that the pub would soon be on the agenda for a visit.
Now you all know Bartles -- he doesn't know the meaning of a quick drinking session. And, 30 minutes after leaving for his prior engagement, was able to rearrange his schedule and work in an emergency exploratory excursion. First up for Bartles at the pub was a Stoudt's Double IPA (10%), a medium-bodied ale with a pleasant flowery aroma and crisp hop flavor, while James sampled a Full Sail Session Black Lager (5.4%), a light-bodied schwarzbier with muted coffee and caramel bitterness. After an interlude of George Foreman-grilled chicken nachos (some things never change) The next round included a Breckenridge Avalanche (5.41%), a very light amber ale that lacked any real punch, and Terrapin Rye Squared IPA (9.5%). Double the malt, double the hops equals double your pleasure and double your fun -- if you like the turtle's RyePA, B&J firmly suggest you try this delectable drink. One-time beer club attendee and notorious dirty pirate hooker Amberella the Red Bush notified Bartles of being available for bevvies for the first time in months, so the two tasted one last beer: Terrapin's Gamma Ray (11%), courtesy of new buddy Chuck, who first tried to buy B&J shots of tequila and then white russians -- that was before an interpreter stepped in and explained that Chuck was not inquiring about Bartles' shoe size. The Gamma is a wheatwine ale brewed with honey, though after the first sip you'd thought it was brewed with banana-flavored Now-and-Laters. James swore he would probably piss neon-yellow flourescent after that radioactive brew.
The duo jetted over to the 11th street Taphouse Bar and Grill and started with ever-faithfuls Brooklyn Brown Ale (5.5%) and the aforementioned Rye Pale Ale (5.3%) -- always solid beers. Amberella also joined in on the Brown upon arrival of the Richmond Pub Crawl reunion. Over the next selections of Blue Point Toasted Lager (5.3%) and Blueberry Ale (4.3), which were both tasted at the Richmond World Beer Festival, and Bluegrass Jefferson Reserve Stout (8.0%), a viscous stout with coffee sweetness and an alcohol bite from being bourbon-barrell aged [it's only after typing in all these ABV percentages I realize why everybody in the club gettin' tipsy], James discussed the idea that since BC4M meetings are clandestine and talked about after the fact, these rogue sessions would be ideal opportunities for instant gratification. Bartles shook his head in agreement, though that might have been because the Spicy Chipotle wings were a lot much hotter than anticipated.
So our rogue sessions are going live -- just go to twitter.com and follow bc4mrogue, or just click on the link. You can get real-time updates on what the rogue duo B&J is drinking. Maybe even where. You can also post back and tell us what you're drinking. Maybe even where. You never know when we'll be out, but that next post just might inspire you to come out and crack open a beer.

Tank Flashes a Flamingo

It was a Saturday evening in the quaint hamlet that we call home and Prince Mike was hosting a flamingo. For those of you new to the blog, a flamingo is the neighborhood party that was originally the brain child of our resident incognito genius J. Wilder. His idea was to have a random house in the hood host a get together to allow us to let loose and enjoy each others company. Generally what happens is the horde of neighborhood kids storm the pool in the backyard while we grownups sip or in some cases guzzle "adult beverages" and wait for them to get tuckered out. Once the kids have had enough fun for the evening, we usually drink some more and sometimes even have adult swim time. Believe me when I say, nothing quite beats the visual of a group of drunken adults playing naked Marco Polo at 1 a.m. Usually, we are forbidden by our better halves from having a BC4M meeting while a flamingo is taking place but this evening was slightly unusual. The ladies were gathered around the pool discussing their upcoming fall "vino exploration weekend" trip to the mountains, so while they ignored us we used that as an excuse to try a trio of new beers that Papa Guido himself, Frank the Tank had smuggled in. Tank had recently opened up a west coast location for his import/export business (they specialize in lead based painted infant toys and "authentic" Chinese medicinal herbs) and his VP of sales, Roberto "Blaze it up" Lucianno had sent him three new beers from San Diego's Green Flash Brewing for our tasting. With the BC4M journal located back at his house, Fred had to clumsily scribe the tasting notes on a barbecued chicken soiled paper plate (like any other Bulwer-Lytton prize winning author, nothing will get in his way of transcribing beer tasting history). First up was Green Flash Hop Head Red Ale (6.4%). This was a great start to the night and was full of flavor with a solid hop kick. This one was a firm good, so we moved on to Green Flash Double Stout (8.8%). Nothing says refreshment like a thick juicy stout on a hot muggy summer evening. As we poured this glass of 10W-40 Pennzoil, we were happily rewarded with a very tasty beer. A hint of chocolate combined with the heavy malt and surprisingly thin mouthfeel made us all agree that this rated a very good. The final beer of the quick tasting session was Green Flash West Coast IPA (7.3%). The west coast IPA is fast becoming one of our favorite styles of beer. Uber-hoppy with a meaty finish, this one isn't anywhere near as good as Pliny the Elder, but it was solid nonetheless and it rated a good. We quickly wrapped up our tasting when some of the girls came over to see what shenanigans we were up to. "Nothing to see here" said Bim as one of the lovely brides inquired as to why Fred was taking a picture of the three bottles. Thankfully, the ladies were all tipsy on the fermented grapes that they had been "sipping", so we avoided their scorn from having had a session under the auspices of a flamingo. We had to immediately adjourn the meeting when Snake had the balls to saunter out on the deck in his "swimsuit" since we were concerned that the ladies would probably begin hyperventilating upon seeing their neighborhood teddy bear that close to being "nekkid". Thankfully, Prince Mike had a ready supply of Pepcid to help soothe our collective heartburn and nausea from being exposed to that much man flesh, but at least we had another meeting in the books. In case any of you ladies are wondering, Snake does indeed do outcalls, and he can be booked for your next outing or party. Contact the head of the BC4M entertainment division, the maestro of booty-ranging himself D-Rail for more information. Until next time, flash out bitches......

Belgian Fever Night

After surviving the 26 beer avalanche that we had put on our collective livers during the storied 500 night, we decided to reign it in a notch when Bim called for a meeting of the brotherhood this week. Doctor Bim texted to all hands that he had a fever, and the only prescription was hosting a Belgian Beer night. The theme chosen was based on celebrating the 28th anniversary of the unprecedented come from behind win posted by his two favorite uncles, Reginald Applebey and Clive Bigsby, in the 400 mile Shinkakasa River to Gulf of Guinea canoe race held every year in the former Belgian Congo. This race is considered the most treacherous canoe race held outside of the continental U.S. (due to the multiple varieties of poisonous spitting tree frogs found along the banks of the river and the dreaded bristle-back jorogumo fly that carries both dengue fever and chlamydia) (Back here in the States, the AuSable Canoe Marathon in Michigan is widely considered the toughest and most challenging test for the modern canoeist). Bim's two uncles (enterprising young lads that had left their jobs as traveling dart board salesmen to form the Beef Swallower Condom Company) happened to be in Africa attempting to setup a steady supply of cheap rubber to ship back to America from the resource rich Congo region. Fruitless in their attempt to sign a contract with the leading suppliers in the area, Reggie took a chance at gaining access to the plentiful rubber by offering a bribe to famed local witchdoctor Joji Komonaneedja. To seal the deal, Reggie offered Joji a rare pair of albino horned viper boots that he had found while on a viagra fueled weekend while on the beach in Barbados with a gorgeous and buxom blonde coed that was nearly half his age. Surprisingly, the rare boots were a hit for Joji, a fearsome man that had never worn anything other than hippo dung on his feet while growing up among the Korowai tribe of central Africa. While celebrating having successfully garnered an almost endless supply of latex for their upcoming line of ribbed (for her pleasure) cock gowns, Clive had ultimately made the disastrous choice of bedding not one but all three of Joji's virgin daughters, all without sheathing his loins. He subsequently found out he was a father to be for all three young ladies so the boys needed a quick method of departing the Congo not only alive but also with their balls intact. Their timing was impeccable, as the annual canoe race down the crocodile infested waters of the Congo River was scheduled to start the next morning and proved to be the perfect escape route. The boys traded two pairs of jeans and an Atari t-shirt to a local boater for his hand carved African teak canoe. The sleek, tung oiled vessel turned out to be surprisingly nimble as the boys bested a field that included the female two time AuSable winning team of Gassie Lassie and Chesty Sparklecheeks to cross the finish line in record time. Knowing they were still being chased by a crazed mob of cannibals, they shunned the post race topless massage party and boarded an aging seaplane for hire that was waiting at a nearby dock. Years later, they still fondly recall that adrenalin charged week even if Reggie still gets the occasional profanity laced collect call from a red haired Rwandan tennis player named "Tommy" that claims to be his son. As we chuckled at Bim's retelling of this family legend, we opened up the first of our 12 pack of Belgian gems, Chimay Ale Grande Reserve (9.0%). This one had a cork top like a bottle of fancypants champagne and it had almost as many bubbles. "A fizzicle" said Snake, as Bim poured a round for the assembled. The first taste wasn't anything to write to home (or to your pen pal in prison for that matter) about, but it got better as we drank more. It wasn't strong for a nine percent beer, but it was solid and so it got a good. Next was a Trappistes Rochefort 6 (7.5%), the third beer we have tried from this excellent monk run brewery. This one was even more carbonated that the Chimay, but it was also in the words of Crazy Ken, "smooth as a bald headed monk's freshly waxed ass". As we recoiled at the visual imagery Ken provided, we all remarked that this was a damn fine beer. Malty, bread like flavor with absolutely no alcoholic backbite, this one left Fred with "a glass full of grape nuts, but this shit is still amazing". This one was very good, so we happily moved on to a Affligem Abbey Blond Ale (6.8%). Wow, what a shitty turn of events this proved to be. The vapors that emanated from this bottle were of a Saharan Desert scorched Corona Light mixed with a shot of man juice. The taste wasn't much better as this Blonde Ale tasted more like a Pilsner or Witbier, and so it rated a sucks. We quickly moved on to a Orval Trappist Ale (6.9%) that was bottled in May 2009 and said was good till May of 2014. "What the Fuck is this, a Twinkie in a bottle" asked Bim, since we still had four years left to enjoy this grenade shaped bottle of monkdom. Opening the bottle produced a ear blistering BOOM that sounded as if a Tomahawk missile had just been launched. Tasting like a weird blend of copper tubing, astroturf floor mats, stale Cheerios and enough carbonation to lift a hot air balloon, this one was another huge disappointment. Maybe we should have let this bottle of sourdough bubblegum age for another few years before we cracked into it but as it tasted now it was a sucks to so-so. Hoping for the best, we then had a Nostradamus Belgian Brown Ale (9.0%). Crazy Ken, who had gotten his undergrad degree from Notre Dame said "Hell, I didn't know they brew beer at Notre Dame". Fred mentioned that it was actually called Nostradamus, after the famous 16th century French apothecary that had actually foreseen the day when we would gather to drink all this shitty Belgian beer in one of his "quatrains", titled "La bière qui goûte comme l'âne" or "The beer that shoots flames from your dingie" according to the resident linguist, Bim. This bottle featured a picture of a bearded, pigtailed Santa Claus like elf that was suck-starting the Stanley Cup while Kazoo from the Flintstones gave him pointers. Undaunted by the European style man-love imagery of the bottle, we were thankfully rewarded with a taste that combined brown sugar, toffee and figs which was a delight for the tongue so it rated a good. Next was Delirium Tremens (8.5%), which came in a white ceramic looking bottle that had an even stranger looking cover. Somehow, the bottle designers decided that dancing pink elephants, butt pirate crocodiles and ladyboy lizards should mingle on the label. An increasingly nauseated Fred asked, "What the fuck is wrong with these fucking fucks? What kind of fanny bandit came up with that stupid fucking label?" Supposedly, this was at one time rated the best beer in the world, but we all thought it tasted like non-descript wheat flavored nonsense, so it rated a so-so. Continuing on what had turned into a gay beer bottle art festival we then tried a Brassiere D'Achouffe Chouffe Houblon Dobbelen IPA Tripel (9.0%). Fred, filling the role of scribe for the evening said, "Damn thats a long fucking name for a beer". The bottle cap was as big as a silver dollar, and even though the smell was that of a fresh bowl of skunk piss, the taste was quite good. "IPA my ass, but this shit is tasty" said Snake as he looked at a bottle that featured one of Snow White's seven dwarfs, only this one was bent over in preparation for his daily prostate exam. Another beer from Brassiere D'Achouffe, La Chouffe (8.0%) was described as a "double fermented Artisanal Belgian Golden Ale" and was "brewed with spice". Bim asked, "do they mean brewed with man spice?" Again, even though the label had that same flamer dwarf as the last bottle, this time getting ready to ass tingle a pitiful looking musk melon, this beer was amazing. "On the high side of good" said Ken as we drank in this apple flavored treat. Our next beer was Maredsous 6 Blonde Ale (6.0%). This is a truly bland beer that had a hint of wheat flavoring along with high carbonation. None of us wanted to drink another one of these, so it got a sucks. Another beer from the folks who gave us a bottle with the pink Dumbo on it, the Delirium Nocturnum (8.5%) was poured next. Fred declared, "its like an asteroid farm in a bottle" as we were all amazed at the huge amount of floaties in the bottle. As we peered into our glasses, Ken said it looked like someone had cleaned their aquarium and poured the results in the bottle, but damn this sure tasted good. "Smooth as a red velvet cake" said Bim, while Snake added "it tasted almost as sweet as a milky way bar fed to me by a naked pole dancer dry humping me". Next up was Westmalle Trappist Ale Tripel (9.5%) which was yet another bottle conditioned beer that gets supposedly gets better with age. This one said best before 2011 and we thought it was decent, so it got a good. Our final beer of the night, St. Bernardus Abt-12 (10.0%) featured a bottle that pictured Captain Steuben from the old 1970s tv show Love Boat. As Fred broke into a charming lounge lizard version of the The Love Boat theme song, Bim poured a round of the beer that was easily the best of the night. "This shit is so tasty it makes me wanna take a swan dive into the pool from the lido deck" said Snake, while Bim looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming pair of mammadons. This highly carbonated bottle of flavor bliss poured a three finger head that vanished almost as soon as it got in the glass, but was very good nonetheless. Damn that disappeared fast said Ken, while Bim said it reminded him of the Swedish au pair that lived next door while he was in high school that "could suck the head off of anything". As we downed our glasses, we finished with a salute to Reginald and Clive for inspiring the BC4M to being our assault on the storied beers of Belgium. In the words of our beer making monk brethren, 'Op uw gezondheid'

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The 500

And so the immortal night had descended upon us, the evening in which we would partake of beer number 500 and perhaps beyond. Throughout history, the number 500 signifies well, absolutely nothing, but to the BC4m, it meant an accomplishment known only to a handful of souls worthy enough to call themselves pioneers. Throughout the annals of history, countless visionaries had performed valiant quests that challenged the very fabric of human dignity. We humbly joined the vanguard of forefathers who had challenged the very notion of living meekly in moderation. We scoffed at the naysayers who said that sampling 500 beers in 7 months was pure folly. Having endured the pitfalls of (over)indulgence, we proudly arrived at Snakes house for a gathering that would ensure our place in the archives of time. To herald our "race to 500", the bold choreographer of the group, the daddy mac/mac daddy of "stylin and profilin" himself, Mr Jonathan Zigfried Wilder showed up in his hottest Danica Patrick inspired racing ensemble to commemorate the festivities. The night was unseasonably cool as we gathered on Snake's 800 square foot antique Peruvian Ishpingo wood deck for a night that would bring to us beers that were as rare as the double breasted ringtail lemur found only in the Andes mountains of Chile. On this glorious night we first opened a Lagunitas Lucky 13 (8.56%). The bottle featured a picture of D-Rails Ugandan aunt who had at one time been a mute burlesque dancer during the reign of Mussolini prior to WWII. She was widely regarded as not only the first known performer of the "rusty trombone" but who had also been seduced by multiple members of the Italian National breakdancing team during one particularly lascivious weekend in Monte Carlo back in 1936 . This was a sweet elixir that rewarded us with a hoppy start followed by a explosive finish (much like the beloved Aunt Paquienta on that fateful friday evening) and it rated a very good. Next was a second tasting of Rogue Double Dead Guy Ale (9.0%). Better this time, the group liked the taste, even though the ever present Pac-Man yeast and "free range coastal water" caused Fred to say, "damn these fucks are fucking pretentious as hell". Trappistes Rochefort 10 (11.3%) was poured next and it was a sweet, velvety, carbonated concoction that screamed "drink me up". "Wow" said Wilder, "this shit is flippin amazing" and we all agreed that it was almost an RFG. We tried a Moylan's Kilt Lifter Scotch Style Ale (8.0%) next and it while it was decent, nary a kilt was lifted unlike the multitude of woodies that had developed upon drinking the Rochefort. Since it was nothing super it got a so-so. Tank had brought along his buddy from San Diego to the festivities and while he was busy cracking us up with tales of how he and Tank used to emcee the one eyed midget donkey shows while on liberty in Tijuana we opened a bottle of Trader Joe's Fat Weasel Ale (7.1%). If you have never been to a Trader Joe's, do yourself a favor and go. The folks there make a damn fine boysenberry cobbler as well as a great beer, and this one didn't disappoint as it was easily one of the best session beers we had ever tasted so it got a good. While Snake was busy grilling up some hot Italian sausages to help assuage our hunger pains, we popped the top on a Russian River Damnation (7.75%). As you loyal readers know, we absolutely love many of the beers these guys make (Pliny the Elder might be the absolute best beer we have ever tried), but this "Belgian Golden Ale" tasted like a used wad of Big League Chew in a bottle. Crazy Ken mentioned that it had as much flavor to him as ball of twine. Snake remarked that it tasted like the hard as granite stick of bubble gum you used to get in a pack of baseball cards. Great label and great name but average at best taste so it rated a so-so. Another bottle from Lagunitas, Undercover Investigation Shutdown Ale (9.75%) was offered next, and it was simply delicious. This beer was supposedly brewed as a response to a year long DEA investigation into the alleged dope smoking habits of the boys at the brewery, but like the Obama administration guys patrolling the porous border with Mexico, somehow they failed to find anything illegal. Fred said the granola and hemp infused tone of this tasty treat reminded him of the free-spirited, gun toting, tie-dyed wearing swinger ladies he had accidently come across while traversing Lake Chesdin while competing in the 9th annual Smack dat Ass Triathlon. Despite the government crackdown, this amazing beer was almost an RFG, as we loved the pure hop and malt flavors that dazzled our taste buds. Next was a Terrapin Side Project 11 Boom Shaka-Lager (9.0%) which is actually a marzen style beer rather than a lager. Wilder simply loved the name and fell back into his middle school hip hop phase by jumping on the table to do his patented Humpty Dance. As we howled with laughter at the nimble antics of the artist formerly known as DJ Whitey Freshtastic, we downed this remarkable beer and rated it a solid good. After swarming Snake's freshly grilled sausages like a plague of two-legged humpback locusts, we moved on to the sacred trinity of beers that this night was built around. In our endeavours to try every beer made, we had stumbled upon two of the highest alcohol content beers in existence. From our friends in wee old Scotland, the boys at Brewdog had first developed the Tactical Nuclear Penguin (32%), (thats right 32 freaking percent). Subsequently, a German outfit crushed the Penguin by making a 40% beer. As a response to this nefarious Kraut assault on all things good and Scottish, the lads developed a counterattack known as Sink The Bismarck (41%). Of course we had to try both of these ballistic alcohol missiles, and the only man that could get them to us was the Zohan himself. Freddie told us not to waste our money on them but that he would ship them to us if we so desired. Even though the cost of these two beers is more than the mortgage payment of the average South Carolina double wide owner, we didn't give a fuck, so we ordered one of each. Penguin poured like the chilled remains of a catastrophic chimney fire and smelled like a pile of burnt and freshly soiled baboon diapers. The taste was that of a charred oxtail wrapped in a smoked oak barrel. "This shit is god-awful"said Bim, while D-Rail exclaimed, " I want my 50 bucks back". This was one of the worst beers to ever soil our tongues and it rated a sucks. Fred declared, "I would rather drink 2 cases of CHC Swamp Fire Ale after a syphilis infected orangutan urinated on it before I take another sip of this shit!". To wash the acrid taste out of our mouths, we promptly poured Bismarck. What a complete turnaround in taste. This 41% annihilator was as smooth as a set of Hugh Hefner's silk pajamas. A bigger mouthful than even a marvelous set of bodacious 36dd's, this was in the words of Tank, "That's like Holy Mackerel", while Snake decreed, "That is some genuinely serious shit right there boys", and Wilder added, "Thats a fucking MRE in a bottle!" As strong as this beast is, the alcohol hits you about as weak as a limp wristed baloney smuggler yet the taste is pure unadulterated bliss on the tongue. This was a magnificent beer and it rated very close to RFG. The third beer of the trinity, was the world number one rated Westvleteren-12 (10.2%). Peruse just about any online beer rating site will and you will find this beer rated as the best of the best. We poured a round for all hands and hoped for a vision of glory to descend upon our tongues. With most things in life, the hype usually outdoes the actual experience. Sure, everybody and their Jamaican-Peruvian half step-sister has rated Westie as the be-all end-all of beers. And damn if they weren't right. The taste is is simply divine and we wished we had a 6 kicker of it to pass around. D-Rail said it was so good, "I wanna dip my Irish-Honduran dick in it and suck it myself" while Snake said, "Guys, thats some real fuckin tasty business right there". Without hesitation, we declared it to be an RFG. While we reveled in having found a new RFG, we retold the story of our trip to the world beer festival in Richmond. Fred mentioned that while he had easily gotten the best pizza on the Bottoms Up menu, the "Meat Master", both D-Rail and Bim had somehow ordered the oyster rockefeller pizza and Wilder had succumbed to the taco pizza. As Fred mocked the obviously less than manly pizza choices of his brethren and dropped his forearm on the table (simulating the supposed size of the meat in his banana hammock), the boys turned the tables on Fred by insinuating that being a "meat master" seemed pretty fucking gay in itself. "Well played ladies" said Fred as we moved on to a New Holland Mad Hatter (5.25%). This bottle of mediocrity was in the words of the suddenly loquacious D-Rail, "The Coors Light of IPA's" and it rated a mere so-so. Green Flash Le Freak (9.2%) was opened next and it tasted like a bottle of dried up toothpaste. Snake said it was so dry it reminded him of the dried up chunk at the tip of an Easy Cheese container and so it rated a so-so. He'brew Rejewvanator (8.2%) is the third beer in an annual line that focuses on a different fruit as its base. This is the "year of the grape" for this supposedly half-doppelbock, half belgian dubbel ale. Bim remarked that this tasted like Welch's grape juice mixed with Keystone Light, and in fact it is brewed with 600 gallons of Concord grape juice. After watching him drink this up like a thirsty dog laps up pool water, we fell out of our seats as an apparently drunken Bim got up to recreate the scene at his wedding when he serenaded the crowd with the classic song If you think I'm sexy. As the laughter died down, we opened another beer from Belgium, the Trappistes Rochefort 8 (9.2%). This beer poured like a freshly shaken can of Pepsi, but even with the huge amount of carbonation it tasted amazing. Flavors like caramel, brown sugar, and candy sugar rush out at you with a subtle balance that doesn't overwhelm your palate. This one was even better than the Rochefort-10 and we agreed that this was indeed another RFG. Allagash Odyssey (10.4%) was opened next. An ale aged in oak barrels, this was a smooth beer that didn't have alot of alcohol burn even though it has a double digit abv. Remarkably drinkable, this was damn good and was at the border of being declared RFG but missed by just a hair. Another of the rare beers that only the Zohan seems to have for us, The Bruery Eiener's Folly (8.0%) was opened next. To the dismay of our resident home brewer Bim, we discovered that this was actually the winning recipe at a home brewing contest sponsored by the brewery. Bim said, "Hmm, not too shabby", but we all knew he loved this bottle of "Hershey's chocolate bar meets Imperial Porter". To make matters worse for Bim, we also found out that the homebrewer that created this masterpiece was a 19 yr old Salvadorian girl who came up with the recipe on her first try. "You mean to tell me this is a Mexican beer? asked Crazy Ken. Frank then explained to him that not every country south of the border is called Mexico. This was one excellent beer and even though Bim clamored that we should tighten up our immigration laws, we all gave this beer a solid good. We were all getting a little tipsy by this point, but we had several more beers to sample. Avery 17th Anniversary Lager (8.69%) was on tap and this was a dry hopped black lager. The dark roasted malts blended perfectly with the tangy hops and this one rated a good. Kiuchi Brewery Hitachino Nest Japanese Classic Ale (7.5%) was poured next. Featuring a label that had the Tootsie Pop Owl on it, drinking this beer caused the chairman of the CHC Tea Party (Fred the grumpbump) to start a polemic about "Tojo and them damn sneaky ass Japs" who had somehow successfully launched the Pokemon craze on unsuspecting parents of 1990's kids across our great land. Snake added in how he had been forced to track down and shoot a rabid pack of Pokemon Bunnys that were reeking havoc on the native bonsai population at his lavish sugarcane plantation located on Okinawa. Snake said of all the animals that he had hunted, none had fought like these miniature "Godzillas". "Don't ever let those sad eyes fool you" said Snake, "cause they will strike at you in a split second". The beer sadly didn't live up to the hilarious bunny story, so we gave it a so-so. Next was a Founders Cerise (6.5%). Named after the color that results from the use of michigan cherries in the brew, this was a sweet beer that had a tart bite to it. Very refreshing said Wilder as he broke the seal on the bottle. "Nothing like a good beer in a tight box" he exclaimed. This one was a keeper so it got a good. Blue Mountain Brewery Evil 8 (7.7%) was a Belgian style dubbel. The brewery is located a stone's throw from the charmingly romantic countryside of the Veritas winery in Afton Va, this beer utilizes caramelized biscuit malt and belgian style yeast to create a funky, albeit tasty beer that had us all saying, not too bad, so it got a good. Red Racer Pale Ale (5.0%) and Red Racer IPA (6.5%) were up next. The Pale Ale tasted liked the typical no flavor offerings found in most grocery store beer coolers so it was a so-so, while the IPA was decent and rated a good. Schloss Eggenberg Samichlaus Bier Helles (14.0%) was opened next. This was a swift kick in the ass that tasted like a bottle of Cold Cock Malt Liquor. This beer had a taste that was strong, a slighty skunky smell, and the hammer to the head that this Austrian lioness laid upon us left us on the brink of drunkendom. A so-so to good was the result. Only two beers remained, and the first was an Avery Samael's Ale (16.45%). This is a barley wine style beer that must have been brewed with 23 tons of pure sugar. Wilder declared "I have already got 3 new cavities from the first sip of this syrup", while Tank said, "A sex bomb is what this sweetwater is". Tank was obviously inebriated by the time, since none of us knew what the hell that actually meant. Perhaps it was a bold new move to be used in the bedroom with your significant other, but maybe one day Tank will shed some light on this mystery. A so-so was all we could muster for this bottle of Aunt Jemima's syrup wrapped in a beer label. As we narrowly held our eyes open while the stars rained down their heavenly light from above, we tried a Founders Devil Dancer (12.0%). This fiery she-devil was strong and latched on to our tongues like your eyes would to a young temptress shaking what her momma gave her during a blistering P90X workout. Very good said Wilder, as he emptied his glass. Drunk as fuck and all but passed out, the end of the beer line was finally found. Two new RFG's added to the list, and we had finally partaken in what were once the world's strongest beers. We will continue to march on dear readers, as our next quest finds us searching for the so called "whales" of the craft beer world. These are beers brewed in such limited quantities that they usually sell out in a single day. If any of you are in New Hampshire, Indiana, Oregon, or California, let us know, because maybe you can be the one that gets us these rare beauties. Until next time........