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We are still alive!!! Despite a prolonged absence, we are alive and well. It takes a lot of work to keep our fans entertained, and to be honest, we are the laziest fuckers you will ever meet. That, and the fact that we have 3 members who are retarded and only 2 who are functionally literate, and you can see how this is such a chore. We are basically no smarter than a hoard of howler monkeys

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Hail and Farewell

Recently we found out that our terrorist chasing brother, Frank the Tank, had received orders to a new command up near the nations capital. Tank's newest assignment was to lead an elite team of female assassins known in the Special Ops world as "The Nookie Ninjas". Since Tank would be spending the next two years away from home whipping his "girls" into shape, we decided to get together to celebrate his continued loyal service to our country with some rare beers. Fred, Bim, Snake, Crazy Ken, D-Rail, Prince Mike and 10pm all gathered poolside on Tank's spacious Delaware sized deck to give him a proper Hail and Farewell. When we arrived, we were greeted by Tank's vivacious bride, a spitfire named Teresita Fuentes, who in 1991 had caused a then young and erstwhile Lt. Tank, hopped up on a fifth of cheap dime-store tequila to fall madly in love one sultry summer in South Beach. It seems that Teresita or "Bolita de Fuego" as she was then known on the grueling and ultra-competitive southern Florida Flamenca dancing circuit, had seduced our wide-eyed Jersey boy into joining her for a stunningly triumphant championship run at the 25th annual "Caliente Escroto de Amorte Invitational". The two have been together ever since, and occasionally they thrill the neighborhood with late night renditions of their winning dance routine, the sultry yet hamstring abusing "El Diablo del Recto".
As she filled the table with enough food to feed in Fred's immortal words, "Chairman Mao's fucking Chi-com army", we watched in mock horror as D-Rail polished off an an array of delectable treats like a bedwetting fat kid sucking down a box of double-stuffed Oreos. That evening we also had the pleasure of welcoming one of Tank's dearest cousins, a delightful paisan from "da Shore" named Salvatore "Dirty Playboy Manigotti. Sal, who was in town to oversee the opening of his newest "champagne room", a charmingly sophisticated all night truckstop/motel called "Slip Right Inn" which featured 24 hour a day service from the always popular topless hash slingers (Gives a whole new meaning to "smothered, covered and chunked"). As we started the night, we first opened a Stillwater Artisinal "A Saison Darkly" (12.0%). This one was a nad kicker right from the start as the thick viscous syrup poured like a cold bottle of Aunt Jemima's finest. Bim, who once spent an entire summer at the teat of a lookalike Auntie J herself, was flush with excitement as he tasted this dark Belgian elixir that had hints of raisins in its profile. "Ah, reminds me of those gorgeous milk filled balloons", he had suckled the summer he had turned 14. We decided the beer (much like a milk filled breasticle) was pretty damn tasty and gave it a good. The next two were from a Swedish brewer, Dugges, with their 1/2 Idjit Imperial Porter (7.0%) which was dark chocolatey and as raw as a freshly Nair'ed whisker biscuit. The Dugges Nevermind the Bollux (9.0%) was a double IPA that was sweeter than normal but still quite good. Next was a De Scheldebrouwerij Turnhout Hop Ruiter (8.0%). "Damn that's a long fucking name" said our scribe, Fred, as we tasted another in a long line of subpar blond ales that are rife with that annoying Belgian yeast flavor we abhor. A so-so at best, we moved on to a 2010 Founder's Kentucky Breakfast Stout (11.2%). While we poured a round, Tank yelled out to the kitchen, "are the sausages ready?" Thinking that was a euphemism for erectile dysfunction, Doctor Bim quickly wrote Tank a prescription for the little blue "whiskey dick" pills that seem to be in the medicine cabinet of every wannabe pimpmaster these days. "Does that shit really work" said a suddenly inquisitive D-Rail, who had wasted hundreds on lotions, potions and herbal remedies in a futile effort to convince his newest "girlfriend" Akira that his adult chat room alter ego was indeed "The Manaconda" and not a work of fiction. The beer itself was a far cry from last year's version, which we had frantically searched for until Bim's Dad scored the final 4 pack at one of our favorite beer joints The Party Source, by donkey punching three girl scout troop leaders. Last year it was too boozy, and needed time to age whereas the 2010 version is simply phenomenal. Incredibly mellow, it was bourbony without being over the top and packed a strong flavor that didn't burn your throat like the innards of a freshly nuked Hot Pocket would. Easily an RFG, we moved on to a selection of favorites from Goose Island. First was their base double Imperial Stout, the dark as squid ink Goose Island Nightstalker (11.7%). We had rated this one a really good last year, but obviously our palettes are more refined as this one was ultra smooth and rich like a melted dark chocolate Dove bar. "That shit is fucking awesome" said Bim, as Snake added, "As smooth as rolling your tongue around a pole dancer's silk thong", this one was also upgraded to RFG. As many of our loyal readers know, Tank is a huge fan of bourbons and whiskies, so Fred thought it appropriate to bring out the complete line of Bourbon County Stouts for Tank to enjoy. All are previously rated RFG, so we first opened a Goose Island Coffee Bourbon County Stout (13.0%). Like the tantalizing aroma of a fresh brewed cup of morning joe, like the rest of the stable in the BCS line, it is ultra smooth and rich. The guys that hadn't previously tried this were amazed at the depth of complexity of the flavors that perfectly blended coffee and bourbon. Next was a Goose Island Bourbon County Stout (13.0%). The bourbon barrel aged version of Nightstalker, it takes all the great flavor of that beer and give it a sourmash flavor enhancement that screams "Yes I am that fucking amazing". "Fuck these are some good beers"" said the seemingly tapeworm afflicted D-Rail, between his continued bites of hot off the grill sausages. "Watch out Tank, he might set up camp in your backyard and never leave" said Fred. We then opened a Goose Island Vanilla Bourbon County Stout (13.0%), which somehow reminds you of an iced vanilla latte with a hint of Jameson's in it. This one is Snake's favorite as it reminds him of youthful indiscretions such as giving the local tribeswomen the vaunted "platinum shower" during summer's overseeing his uncle's vanilla plantation in Madagascar. Our final beer was the Goose Island Rare Bourbon County Stout (13.0%). This one is aged for 2 years in 23 yr old Pappy Van Winkle bourbon barrels. We have had it before and it is one of the best beers we have ever tried. Picking a favorite among these beers is akin to picking out your favorite child, cause each of them is unique and world class. This is even smoother than the others and has just the right balance of bourbon and stout flavors. Get your hands on any and all of these beers, and you will not be disappointed. Out of beers, and slightly drunk, we decided we would pay one final salute to our departing brother. As many of you know, we all live in the same quaint "neighborhood" and next door to Tank's lives one of our Founding Fathers, Johnny Wilder. Normally, one of our pranks after we drink at Wilder's is to pee on the side of Tank's house. This has been going on for years and it is stunning to see the award winning flower bed that soaks up all our spent fuel.  To help Tank pay Johnny back, we decided the best course of action was to "Wet the Woodie", so we promptly unloaded a 21 gun salute on Wilder's prized restoration project. Hopefully, our extra strength bourbon flavored piss will contain enough oxidizing power to eliminate the few remaining rust spots on his surf wagon. 

As we finished delivering a drenching to the lawn and everything nearby, we saluted Tank one last time as we headed off. Thankfully, Tank is only a few hours north of us and he plans on coming back to share in weekend BC4M sessions. Until then, we wish him fair winds and following seas, and of course, drinks aplenty. Salude


MIchael said...

I want to volunteer as Frank's assistant!

Anonymous said...

all this dick talk/innuendo and finally when there is a picture that could potentially show all of your manhoods, you bastards turn your backs to the camera. you gotta give something for the's bad enough we give up our sex and the city cocktails for your beer...the least you could do is give us some eye candy. WE WANT MORE DICK.

Beer Club 4 Men said...

Ma'am, (assuming you truly are a women), thank's for the thoughtful comment. We at the BC4M are used to being considered eye candy for our female followers. Being treated as a "piece of meat" is second nature, since we eat lots of meat, and you are what you eat. Hell, Snake is a former Chippendale's dancer for God's sake. And it's not unusual for people to comment on our anatomy as well. It seems that everywhere we go, someone yells out to us "You guys are a bunch of dicks!" which is the ultimate sexual compliment, is it not? So stay tuned as we continue to parade our faceless, smoking hot physiques across America on our quest to taste every beer known to man (and woman).

The Dicks at the Beer Club For Men

krazyitalianirish said...

Well, it's better than being subjected to "You guys are a bunch of pussies!!" That's for dam sure...

Mmmm faceless, smoking hot male physiques?? That's actually pretty arousing!! Keep up the carnivorous diet and titillating stories (plus photos)...and I'm sure your loyal followers will show the love!


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