Ode to an Old Black Dog

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

IPA night

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

World Beer Festival-Richmond

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