BC4M's "Pick Yo Poison Night"

The meeting started innocently enough, with The Drunken Polack and his fiance Polly Pocket discussing the most recent snuff film they reviewed. Unbeknownst to the rest of us, The Polack is a renowned snuff film aficionado. His favorites include such classics as "Shag 'em, Bag 'em, Tag 'em," "Slash that Gash," and who can forget the 80's classic  blacksploitation snuff film,  "I'm Gonna Get You Sucka...Then Screw You Sucka!, Then Kill You Sucka!". The Polack's latest discovery was some Croation flick, full of blood, guts, and some kinky sex weird enough to make even Fred squirm. Big Audio Dynamite (BAD), on the other hand, was intrigued. As a former porn star, BAD has worked with the best of them. Peter North, John Holmes, Harry Reems (inventor of the pornstache), Ron Jeremy, even legendary Indian Porn Star Vikki, star of the autofellatio instructional video, movie "Up and Over". Like a Law and Order prosecutor, BAD probed the young couple regarding their sex habits. "What kind of weird shit you two into? Rusty Trombones? Bronco Sex?  Cincinnati Bowties? The Dirty Sanchez? The Bullwinkle? Tuna Melts? Cop's Delight? Flaming Amazon's? Hot Karl's? Indian Cock Burns? New York Style Tacos? Puerto Rican Fog Banks? Purple Mushrooms? Snerd Nurgling? Swimmers Ears? Fish Eye's? Woody Woodpecker's? Monkey Wrenches? Sex Baskets? The Flying Dutchman? Davy Crocketts? Shirley Temple's?" (all real shit. If you don't believe me, look em up!) The rest of us sat in complete awe of our brother and his vast knowledge of kink. Having exhausted the sex talk, the conversation changed to beards. Bim has been growing his strange facial hair for months, hoping to leave the medical field and pursue his longtime dream of joining the circus. The Polack also is growing a beard. "How's Polly like it?" asked Snake. "She likes it" The Polack replied, "but complains that it tickles her balls".......deafening quiet ensued....outer space quiet....the house suddenly so still you could hear a mouse fart. The quiet was punctuated by the projectile vomiting of Johnny Wilder. The infamous J. Wilder, as you may have heard, recently lost his job with the Secret Service due to a rather public indiscretion with a Colombian hooker. To break the uncomfortable aftermath, host Fred declared, "Enough of this shit, we're here to drink some beers!" And that we did. Fred created a rather large list of beer pairings, allowing each member to chose between 2 beers until we had completed the list. We started with Three Floyds Zombie Dust (7.0%). The beer says it's a pale ale. Pale ale my ass! This hop bomb has to be an IPA, and a great one at that. First beer, first RFG of the night!  New Glarus Uff-da Bock (6.7%) smelled great, but only tasted good. The Bruery's Filmishmish (5.8%) lacked the oak flavor we expected, but was still got a really good rating. The Bruery's Mother Funker (6.0%) had a mouth puckering sweet, vinegary taste, rating a good. We followed that with The Bruery Oui Oui (9%), which we thought missed the mark. It tasted a bit too much like a thin Bartles and James wine cooler, rating only a so/so. Olde Hickory gave us Seven Devils (8%). This boozy beer, with a hint of vanilla, was liked by all, rating a really good. Clown Shoes Vampire Slayer (10%) is their second anniversary beer. This Russian Imperial Stout was dark and sweet with a hint of smoke. We gave it a good. Hangar 24's Barrel Series #4: Hammerhead (13.8%) was a really good booze bomb of a barleywine. What's not to like about an almost 14% beer? Cismontane's The Citizen (6%) made us wonder what country this citizen was from. Serbia possibly? This beer rated only a so/so. We chased that with DC Brau's The Public (6%). DC Brau can make some really nice beers. This isn't one of them. It tasted as if it was made with the dirty bathwater from an Occupy DC hippie, but we know that can't be true since hippies don't take baths. We generously gave it a so/so. Grimm Brothers The Count (12%) was a sweet, raisiny imperial stout. It easily rated a really good. The Lost Abbey, another great brewery, provided Red Barn Ale (6.7%). This spicy, peppery beer missed the mark, rating only a so/so. The Bruery's Trois Poules Francais (10.4%) was another really nice beer from our favorite brewers, rating a really good. Two Brothers Red Eye Coffee Porter (9.2%), was only a so/so. When you put the word "coffee" in the name, you'd better be able to taste some coffee, and this one didn't deliver. Charleville Box of Chocolate (10.5%) was a sugary sweet brew, tasting of silky chocolate. We all agreed this one was good. Cigar City Improvisacion Oatmeal Rye India-style Brown Ale (9.0%) was rated a good. Half Acre Baume (6.5%) had a rather harsh, peppery/chocolate taste that we all liked, rating it a good. Anchorage's Galaxy White IPA (7.0%) was also a solid good. Cisco Monomy Kreik (6.7%) was a disappointment. We had hoped for better, but the beer was weak and watery, rating a so/so. Cigar City's Kalevipoeg Baltic Porter (9.0%) was good, prompting Fred to remark that it tasted of "breasty milk tits" whatever that means. Not sure that anyone is actually brewing with breast milk, but it's an interesting idea. Mikkeller's Sour Bitch (7.7%) was just that, a nice sour that we all liked, rating a good. Next up was Hill Farmstead's Art (6.0%), a barrel aged saison. We are excited about this brewery, and look forward to trying more from them. Despite the fact that we generally don't like saison's, we liked this one, giving it a good. And the last beer of the night was Cascade's Blueberry Ale (7.33%). While fruit beers often taste like fruity ass, this one worked. One of the best beers of the night, the Blueberry ale rated a really good. And with that, the night came to an abrupt end. As we had finally gotten to the end of the menu, thoroughly sloshed, we left Fred's house with visions of pornos, death and transsexuals dancing in our heads...

Irish Eyes a' Smilin Part 2

St Patrick's Day was once again upon the wee lads of the BC4M, except this year was exceptionally special for our queen of merchandising, otherwise known as Fred's better half, Darby O'Hooterhan. It seems that a mere 40 years prior, the heavens opened up and delivered the world a bouncing baby Darby complete with a pint of Guinness in one hand and a fifth of Jameson's in the other. Half Irish and half German, but 100% full of sass, the entire neighborhood gathered to help celebrate our Irish princess's much anticipated milestone. All of the BC4M were present with the exception of Snake, who was down in Ft. Liquordale, Florida scouting the local talent to replace his recently retired "personal assistant"; Bim, who was the keynote speaker at an animal husbandry convention in DC; and D-Rail, who found himself playing the dual roles of bartender/wedding singer at a "civil union" ceremony in New Hampshire. The theme of the night was an Irish murder mystery dinner, and both Darby and her fashionista sidekick Tabletop Tessa had spent countless hours transforming Flintstone Manor's dining room into a authentic Irish pub. The entire neighborhood pitched in with incredible food to go alongside the endless supply of booze that included kegs of Left Hand Milk Stout and the newest creation from the boys at Beach Brewing, a green eyed monster called Sirena Verdi. All the attendees had character assignments and most came dressed in costume including Crazy Ken looking like a grown up Raggedy Andy doll, while J. Wilder, always with the flair for the dramatic, came dressed as Aiden Sweeny, one half of former world champion Irish skateboard/wrestling tag team the "Dynamic Dudes". Armed with a box full of highlight dvd's (yours for the low low price of 19 Euros), he spent most of the night uttering his classic line, "Taking this shit global bitches". Just as the party was getting started, in walked in the surprise of the night. It seems that the fellas at Beach Brewing along with their wives, masquerade on weekends as a mystery solving outfit known as the "Legion of Hooligans". Usually found at ren faires, furry conventions or the occasional bar mitsvah, the team came dressed in full regalia and were primed to solve the murder. Led by their STD spreading leader, Dr. Firecrotch along with his vixenish bride PMS Avenger, the group also included a Blue Man Group dropout called The Green Shillelagh and his warrior wife Pug Mahone as well as the duo of Batguy? and his better half, Ilsa the Shrieking Banshee. As soon as they came in the front door, Ilsa shrieked, "No doubt that pole smoking motherfucker did it" as she pointed at 10pm who was dressed as the decidedly flamboyant choreographer Timmy Tunes. "Easy there little lady, the mystery dinner hasn't even started" said Fred, to which Ilsa snapped back, "Shut the fuck up Flintstone before I skull fuck you with my boots". "Don't mind her" said Batguy?, who added, "She does that to me at least 4 times a week". "Now that's my kind of classy dame" said Frank the Tank as he saw Ilsa stick out a tongue that would make Gene Simmons's of KISS quiver in fear. While we mingled and stuffed ourselves with the traditional Irish feast, we got our first taste of Beach Brewing Sirena Verdi (8.88%). Starting off with a base of their incredibly tasty double IPA Hoptopus, the boys then, according to assistant to the regional manager Chicago Mike, "dry hopped the fuck out of it" before finishing it off with a generous amount of green pond scum. Hoppy and full of flavor and remarkably smooth, this is one easy drinking ass kicker. Even Crazy Ken, who isn't a fan of the IPA's remarked, "umm, this is pretty damn good" while 10pm, quickly added, "I like it" after one sip. We all agreed it rated a really good. While we continued with the party gathering clues and the drinking, we had a haiku contest that was judged via telecom by BC4M 8th degree Master Haikuist Bim, who while in the midst of lecturing a group of Scandinavians on the joys of doggy style, declared the following Pulitzer Prize winning submission from Dr Firecrotch and PMS Avenger the champion:

                                            Playing scrabble with

                                            A retard is more fun than
                                            Fucking your fat mom.


"Damn, that's some kind of romantic poetry ain't it" said a heading toward inebriated Frank the Tank. By this time, another round of clues had been passed around, and Ilsa hopped on the bar and shrieked, "That devil woman with the knife over there did it" as she pointed towards Franks better half and the actual "murder victim" Sofia del Fuego. "She's the VICTIM, hence the knife in her BACK" said a sarcastic Fred, to which Ilsa tartly responded, "Motherfucker I will cut a bitch if you don't shut your fucking face". Frank the Tank simply smiled and said "What a woman, What a woman I tell ya". By this time, our resident photographer, Pera Honeydews was busily filling up a 50 gig flash card full with almost every shot featuring a photo bomb by the Green Shillelagh who by this time was offering any taker a free ride on his "wooden staff". The third and final round of the mystery was then presented and after each person read a statement claiming why they should have killed our victim by in fact hadn't, it wasn't until the final card admitting guilt that was read by none other than Fred, that Ilsa who had passed out earlier but had gotten a second wind after shotgunning 3 Red Bulls, screamed, "He fucking did it", while pointing at Fred. "Check out the big brain on Ilsa" said OMT's better half Martha Stewart, only to have Ilsa snap back, "Watch it bitch, or you're next!" "Damn, I love me a good cat fight" said a delighted Frank, "reminds me of those nights back in Subic Bay". Thankfully before any nails were embedded in opposing flesh, we calmed the ladies down and celebrated the fact that the only person who guessed the murderer correctly was in fact our own 10pm. We then decided to crack open a few beers to end the night. We started with our second tasting of Brewdog Sink the Bismarck which we had previously loved. This time the flavor reminded Fred of "Tastes like a liquefied bottle of Comet powder." Assaulting both our tongues and our sinus cavities with a fiery dose of pain, we had to pour out most of the bottle although Frank the Tank downed 4 shots of it and remarked, "Not bad!" We then opened a Half Acre Big Hugs (9.5%), a solid, dark as mahogany stout that was full bodied and filled with chocolate notes. Next we tried a Goose Island Bramble Rye Bourbon County Stout (12.70%). Like its RFG rated cousins, this one didn't disappoint. Full of sweet blackberry and raspberry flavors, the bourbon barrel added a perfect compliment to the taste with overpowering the base beer. "That shit is fucking amazing" said J. Wilder, while Tank simply grinned and added, "This is so so good". Another RFG added to the stable, we then spent the rest of the night toasting our Beach Brewing mates with rounds of previously RFG rated Bruery Melange #3, Black Tuesday, Firestone Walker 15th, Sucuba, Pelican Stormwatcher and Mother of All Storms. After downing all those high octane beers, we bid our crime fighting team a drunken adieu and stumbled back to our abodes. Another successful night and a thoroughly touched ("that's what she said") Darby had a marvelous birthday. Remember kids, when ever you need a good time, just call up the Hooligans and prepare to be insulted.   Until next time bitches Slainte

Thanks for the Mammaries!

All good things eventually come to an end, and the BC4M is no exception. From the start, we have endured scorching criticism from feminist groups, animal rights activists, and pinko commie environmentalists. "You guys are chauvinist fucking pigs!"; "You dog fuckers serve no useful purpose"; "You're breathing air that we could better use", these and a million other hurtful remarks were hurled our way from various sources.  In the words of immortal cocksman Doc Holiday, "the pressure was more than we could bear". It all started with a million women march in the BC4M hometown of Chesapeake, VA,  demanding that we accept women into our ranks. This was quickly followed by a sexual discrimination suit that was filed when Johnny Wilder refused to serve a woman a tasting glass of beer at a meeting. "Ain't no hoochie getting up on my Sexual Chocolate" he declared. Thankfully, the case was settled out of court, but since the woman in question used the biggest ambulance chaser in Hampton Roads, the damage was already done. In March 2012, a federal judge ruled that, as a public club, we were being sexist pigs, and that we must begin accepting women members. Upon hearing the verdict, the reactions were varied. Snake snarled at the judge and said that he would rather "cut off and eat his own penis" before allowing women into the BC4M. We all agreed that this was a really odd remark, but Snake is no wordsmith. 10pm, always the conversationalist as well as being the resident John Birch Society spokesman, responded, "Nope, I don't like it". Johnny Wilder totally misunderstood the verdict, remarking that he was "happy to be a sexy pig". Fred too was initially overjoyed. "Does this mean I get to look at boobies?" Bim ran off to start his own beer club consisting of farmhouse ales for farmhouse animals.

 We refuse to be the Beer Club For People. We are men, dammit, hear us roar! And get us a beer and a sandwich while you're at it. Something good, with bacon on it. We hope we've kept you entertained over the past 3 years with our crazy shenanigans. We have enjoyed it immensely. Many of you "haters" will no doubt be celebrating our demise. For those of you who feel that we have caved in, start your own fucking club!