Bon Voyage Bitches

This coming Friday, the better halves of our quiet, mild mannered neighborhood, or more commonly known to the BC4M as the Wine Club for Women are heading up for a debauchery filled "girls only" wine trip to the Shenandoah Mountains. The "B's of CHC" as their snazzy new t-shirts proclaim, are heading on their "Bitches and Whine Tour 2010" and have an itinerary that is almost completely hush hush. All that the boys know is that the ladies are going to be staying at a quaint country farmhouse called "A Roll in the Hay", and that several area wineries will be visited by our saucy group of bacchanalians. Who knows what other spicy events the ringleader of the group (Claire Griswald) has planned for our group of wine loving minxes but surely they are in for an amazing time (remember ladies, bras and panties are not optional). Since we would be left flying "solo" for the weekend, Mrs. Wilder (Dr. Cricket Sassafrass) and Mrs Fred (Princess Flirtaliscious) decided we needed to have a celebratory flamingo before the big trip. Mrs. 10pm (Tabletop Tessa), Mrs. Bim (Florence Naughtygale), Mrs. Chip Fontaine (Pera Honeydews) and Mrs. Crazy Ken (Judy Boom) all gathered at Wilder's for a night of food, fun, and of course, drunken booty shaking. Johnny told us he had brought back a few bombers from our favorite Delaware brewery, Dogfish Head. We had tried both of them at the GABF, but we wanted to let the other members have a taste so we first opened a Dogfish Head Chateau Jiahu (8.0%). This is a beer based on a 9000 year old clay pot found in China ("What the fuck is this, a fermented bottle of duck sauce?" asked Fred, the only curmudgeon on the planet that is under 70 years old, and who surely wouldn't be welcome at a United Nations conference). The label had a picture of what could have been a mirror image of Tessa's half step-aunt Jade who was an avant-garde nude fashion model in the late 70's that was famous for her Kanji tramp stamp that our Japanese correspondent Bim correctly translated to mean "please deposit here". We didn't think too highly of it in Denver but it tasted a little better from the bottle. This is a very unique beer that reminded Ken of a bottle of Welch's grape juice. 10pm took one sip and his facial expression said "Thanks for fucking poisoning me, this is fucking awful". Bim and Johnny said it was a so-so to good, while Crazy Ken secretly poured his into the spinach dip on the counter hoping nobody would notice. Maybe it wasn't that good after all, so we gave it a so-so and moved on to a Ska Brewing Local Series Clancy's Black Beer #16 (5.4%). This is a schwarzbier or literally "black beer" that is a homebrew entry from an oil worker in New Mexico named Clancy Calhoun. This one had a noticeable roasted caramel flavor that was quite interesting. It was thin in body but still packed alot of flavor so it got a good. Next was a Hitachino Nest XH (7.0%), a beer that is aged in sake casks. Sake of course is the traditional Japanese alcohol that most of us ignorant Westerners refer to as rice wine. Its actually more akin to beer, but with generally much higher alcohol content. This stubby bottle of strength had a powerful kick but went down as smooth as a 19 year old coed's g-stringed backside. You could really taste the sake barrel influence as the bite from the alcohol was tempered by the crisp rice aftertaste. Even though this was one listed in a recent article that Snake had found suggesting it was one of the 25 best beers in the world, we thought it only deserved a solid good, although we would surely drink it again. As the boys looked for more beers to sample, we noticed that the vino was flowing like Niagara Falls and the girls were getting a tad bit restless and flirty. The thing that usually happens about this time is that the dancing shoes come on and the girls start to boogie down. The entertainment coordinator of the group, The Deacon of Funk himself, J. Wilder busted out his boom box and Ipod and proceeded to flood the house with some rump rustling tunes. Nothing says a great time more than watching our smoking hot wives bouncing their juggies while they danced to wholesome songs like "I'm in Miami Bitch" and "Get Back". As we watched each and every one of the girls gyrating their junk trunks to the dope beats blaring from the speakers, we moved on to a Deschutes Brewing Hop in the Dark C.D.A. (6.5%). A "Cascadian Dark Ale", this is a new style of beer that the flannel wearing set up in the Pacific northwest call their black IPA's. This was slightly bitter like a good IPA, but was full of malty flavorful. Tarry in appearance, and not overly thick in body, Fred, Bim and Johnny loved it while Ken and 10pm thought it was so-so at best. We decided to make it a good since we had such disparate opinions on the beer. As the clock struck midnight, the girls were still shaking their money makers and we had one final beer to try, Dogfish Head Bitches Brew (9.0%), a mixture of imperial stout with honey and gesho root. The african themed label and the gesho root reminded Bim of his days as an undergrad working for UNICEF in Ethiopia back in the early 70's. "Ahhhh, the glorious gesho root, I remember planting and smoking it with the Ugiboogi tribe that I communed with in the Lake Tana region." "If it hadn't been for that bad case of dysentery that caused me to have to come home, I might still be living among those sex craved women that called me Donku Etongyajor or what the English speaking world would know as Gonad the Barbarian". As we cackled with laughter at the hilarious story of Bim's sordid tale of jungle fever, we all agreed that the beer was rated a really good. The honey gave the imperial stout a sweet undertone that balanced perfectly with the roasted malts. The beers were now done, the ladies had danced themselves silly and bedtime beckoned. We gave all the ladies hugs and wished them well on their trip as we looked forward to having them back with us safe and sound and ready to party again......

Leftover Shitty Beer Night

It had been about a week since we made our now infamous jaunt to the Bier Garden in Old P-Town and The Taphouse in downtown Norfolk and the boys were anxious to drink some more beers. The problem was that our 4 neighborhood beer fridges were getting overstocked with what was frankly, shitty beers. Normally a bomber is the perfect size for sharing with the group, but occasionally we have to buy beers in 12 oz bottles, so we usually pick up 3 or 4 to ensure we all get a decent sample pour. The only issue with this is when the beer tastes like stale skunk saliva, you now have 2 or 3 more of them taking up valuable real estate in the beer cooler. What to do with all this asstastic flavor we asked, until Johnny Wilder sent out a text to the group that proclaimed this night as "Leftover shitty beer night", whereby we would dig deep into our beer drinking souls to come up with the courage to abuse our palates once again with the wretches of the craft brewing world. Seriously, some of these brewers should be ashamed that they actually sold what amounts to turpentine or leftovers from the deep fryer at Bojangles as beer. Not wanting to actually throw the beers away, or even potentially ruin the virgin taste buds of a future BC4M member by allowing them to poison themselves with this swill, we figured we could man up and stomach this batch of Drano. D-Rail (always a fan of cheap, shitty beers and low cost ladies of the night), Snake, Crazy Ken, Tank, Bim, 10pm Branigan and Fred gathered around Wilder's breakfast nook for a night that we hope will never be repeated. We pulled out some of the classics from the "I hope I never have to taste this shit again" collection for our night of gastrointestinal destruction such as Yuengling Porter (water with black mung coloring), Bell's Oarsmen (the scurvy prevention treatment for sailors that smelled like cheerios topped with cat urine), Michelob Bavarian Wheat (which Ken said, "Tastes warm and crappy even when its ice cold"). Since our moods began to follow the shitty beers we were choking down, we decided to perhaps crack open a "couple" of new beers to lighten the atmosphere. As we listened to some classic rock on the new 5000 watt home theater system jamming in the family room, Wilder pulled out a growler of Gordon Biersch Fest (5.6%). This one had the typical GB flavor that instantly gives it away, but it was still both malty and flavorful so it got a good. We moved on to a Paulaner Octoberfest (5.8%) that Snake and Bim had tried at the Bier Garden. Another solid good, this one was lighter and more full bodied than the Gordon Biersch, but equally as flavorful so it too got a good. Just as we were about to open our next beer, a classic Gordon Lightfoot song came on. As our ears were delighted by Bim's hauntingly dead on rendition of the classic sea faring tale "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald", we cracked open that classic Belgian-Brazilian-American lager, Budweiser (5.0%). "What the Fuck?" asked Fred, don't we already know this beer is as worthless as a jar of ball sweat? Bim, the parliamentarian of the group said in his steady calming voice, "You know we have to rate EVERY beer in the world, so suck it up Nancy". While we watched this can of swill get passed around, Tank remarked how he must have drank a case of Bud a day when he was the foreman for an all female roofing crew back home in Hoboken during the summer of 83. Tank said, "I had to get plowed, those were some big bitches", "and they were ALWAYS horny". Wilder added that he got his first taste of Bud when he was 7 after he had won a game of strip poker with his "exotic dancer" babysitter Bambi. "Damn I loved those cans" he reflected (we guessed he meant the cans of beer, but Wilder has always been a leg and ass man so maybe thats when he got hooked on Boo-Tays), as we gave a unanimous thumbs down to the beer itself. "This is fucking race car beer" said Bim, as we all agreed it rated a sucks. Next was a bottle of Lindeman's Framboise Lambic (2.5%). "What the hell is this, a bottle of cherry jello?" asked Snake. It smelled exceedingly sweet, and tasted like a desert wine, but damn was it smooth. "Last time I tasted something that smooth, I was face down and chin up between a candy striper named Trixie's thighs" said the noted cunning linguist D-Rail. Despite the fact that it packed the alcoholic wallop of a bowl of Fruity Pebbles we all enjoyed it and gave it a good. While we decided which beer was next on the list, Tank saw a lonely bottle of San Miguel sitting on the table. "Oh man, I remember my first trip to the P.I.", he recalled, "nothing but a case of San Miguel, a couple of coconuts and a Harley riding masseuse named Mathilda." "Boys, you ain't had your pipes cleaned until you have spent a few nights with that old dame". As we howled with laughter at the stories of our intrepid young sailor learning the ways of the female, we opened up a Ayinger Brau-Weisse (5.1%). As you know, we generally despise hefeweizens and their ilk due to their annoyingly clovey flavorings. This one was no different and it was like drinking a banana hammock drenched in spices. "Damn this shit sucks" said Snake as we all agreed that it was putrid at best. Wellpark Brewery's Tennent's Lager (4.0%) was an import from the wee laddies over in Glasgow. Another weakling had arrived from the Empire as this one was akin to drinking a Coors Light, namely nothing to it, sorta like cotton candy. This one was a so-so at best, but before we moved on to our final beer, Brassiere des Rocs (9.5%), 10pm said he had to get going. "What the fuck?" said Wilder, "its only 9:27, surely you don't have to get into your pj's already". "Guess his new nickname will be 9:27", said Fred, as we bid our princess goodnight. The des Rocs was a Grand Cru style (or big bold badass version of a regular beer) that was categorized as a Belgian Special Brown Ale. This one was molasses like in both texture and flavor and left us with a hearty case of tooth decay due to the abundance of sugars. Despite the impending trip to the dentist we would all be having to make, it was still a decent beer and it got a good. Not wanting to drink any more bottles of ineptitude, we called it a night, thankful we had cleaned out most of the dregs from our shelves, and thankful that we had at least gotten to try a few more new brews. Until next time, remember the immortal words from one of our blogging pals, "Life's too short to drink shitty beers".

A BC4M road trip and beyond

As many of you may know, there is a small contingent in the BC4M that are what most would affectionately call "road whores". They possess a wandering spirit that has a thirst for adventure and a love for finding new experiences somewhere down the highway. These "rogues" love to spin yarns about the scantily clad "beer wenches"that they have run into at various watering holes across this great fruited plain that allow you to sip the rarest of beers from between their bountiful juggies. Bim had heard of such place in what the locals here know as P-Town but appears on the map as Portsmouth. It is a German restaurant and tavern called The Bier Garden. The list of beers they have is enormous and supposedly the Frauleins were like cougars so we decided we would make a rare BC4M pilgrimage to see what all the fuss was about. Snake, Fred, John Wilder and Bim were accompanied by a couple of chaperone's (Mrs. Bim and Mrs Fred) to make sure we abided by the look but don't touch rule in case we happened to be served by a couple of horny voluptuous vixens with a penchant for handsome craft beer drinkers. We ordered lunch and had a few tasty new beers while we sat back and enjoyed an unseasonably warm Saturday afternoon outside on the party pavilion. First up was an Ayinger Octoberfest (5.8%) which was malty and nutty with a hint of toasted bread flavor. A solid good, we also tried a Paulaner Octoberfest (5.8%) which was just as tasty. We also had a few beers previously rated like the RFG Trappists Rochefort 8 and the really good Dogfish Head Punk. Sadly, the waitress wasn't wearing lederhosen and she definitely wasn't letting us sip from her ample bosom, so after we finished up our lunch of various meats and sausages and cheeses, we loaded up the paddy wagon and headed over to Norfolk to try a few beers at The Taphouse. The decor screams musty dive bar, the floors are as sticky as the wet spot you made your girlfriend sleep on last night and the few patrons there all looked like they had just awoken from a 18 hour bongathon. Despite the fact we probably needed a tetanus booster from just being there, we ordered up a few new beers including Victory Hop Devil IPA (6.7%) which had just enough hop bite without pulling the enamel off your teeth so it got a good. We also had a Bear Republic Hop Rod Rye Ale (8.0%) that tasted like it should be used as the basis for a reuben sandwich. Dry and bitter, it was only a so-so. We then tried a Abita Restoration Pale Ale (5.0%) which lacked any distinguishing character and was just a plain nondescript beer that is similar to what a generic cereal is, cause if the knock-off brand tasted as good as Cap'n Crunch we wouldn't be calling it Colossal Crunch. The last beer we tried before we left was Duchesse de Bourgogne (6.2%) a Flanders style red ale that was sour and a little vinegary but still smooth as silk. It rated a good although the girls thought it tasted like a glass of red wine vinegar. Knowing we had to make it back home before the zombies came out after dark, we cruised back to the hood for a backyard fiesta at Casa de Snake. Since we had only eaten about 10 pounds of meat for lunch, Snake curbed our hunger pains by grilling up about 4 dozen brats and sausages for dinner. We sat under the stars on his recently remodeled deck thats is bigger than most double wides. While we grubbed out we tried some more new beers. First was Spaten Oktoberfest (5.9%), which was watery and a little skunky. "Damn Krauts", said Fred "always sending us this skunk piss, when will they get over the fact we kicked their schnitzel loving asses in two wars?" Compared to the Oktoberfest's we had earlier, this one was a dud and got a so-so. Next was a J.W. Dundee Octoberfest (5.5%) which was just as watery as the first one but smelled a lot nicer. The taste again was marginal, so it too got a so-so. Next was a Jolly Pumpkin Madrugada Obscura Dark Dawn Stout (8.1%). Featuring a label that had a rubenesque succubus with a bodacious backside and tiny funbags, the beer was both a sour and stout at the same time. "This is the most unusual beer I have ever tasted" said Bim, as Fred added, "How the fuck can you make a stout taste sour but yet be so flippin good?". An amazingly different beer, this one was really good and we would definitely drink it again. The final beer of the day was Troeg's Hopback Amber Ale (6.0%). This is the definition of a good session beer. Full of flavor and easy drinking, this one is the kind of beer you buy by the case. A solid good, we downed our glasses and then made our way home after a long beer filled day. The rogue faction of the BC4M might just be on to something with these day trips, seems like we are gonna have to make this kinda thing happen more often. Until next time.......Prosit!