Beer Reviews, BC4M Style

Are you one of those douchers that loves beer reviews? We have 3 of them for you. The first is one we did of our own shitty home brews. The second is one of our favorites from the wordsmith EconomicIrony from Beeradvocate.com. This guy can describe a beer better than most cicerones! The last review is that of a beer that is truly horrible. It was an Indian beer that surely is only preferred by the same folks who brought us the ''Cock Tease of Calcutta".  And yes, the mention of this mythical Indian slut is a cheap attempt to inflate our numbers by drawing in our friends from Bombay.

Hopslam clone

You one of those snifter sipping ninnies who likes long detailed beer reviews? We are here to accommodate. While we usually save the flowery reviews for really great beers, we can be as verbose as the next beer snob when the situation calls for it. From time to time we too try our hand at brewing. The following is our own Michael Jacksonesque beer review of the most recent attempt at a Hopslam clone.

 "Looking at this beer in the bottle, it reminds one of Lake Erie, circa 1965, long before the passing of the Clean Water Act. Thick in the bottle, cloudy, lots of floating particles, you just know that this is going to be a treat! What is all that stuff? Yeast? Bacteria? old stuff from bottles that haven't been cleaned? YES, it's all that and more. Pouring this beer into a frosty mug reveals a 12 finger head. The foam sticks to the sides of the glass like tan latex paint, as the beer bubbles and churns like a witches cauldron. Take a long deep whiff. The pungent smell of rotting garbage mixed with an overpowering dose of hops stings the nostrils. Festering pluff mud, raw sewage and the smell of a 2 week old dead possum on a hot August day fills your senses. As much as you may want to immediately drink this beer, fight the urge. Savor the nose just a little longer. This isn't an experience that you get every day. The rancid fragrance brings you back to the urine soaked nursing home where you visited great aunt Phyllis as a child. You know, the one who liked to stuck her withered old tongue in your ear when you were forced into uncomfortably close contact. Now slowly, bring this baby to your lips. As it enters your mouth, you immediately taste sweet honey rolling across your tongue, lingering for only a millisecond and followed immediately by the distinct taste of liquid Drano. Pickle juice, stinky french cheese, and cauliflower are apparent, as is just a hint of brussel sprouts and spoiled milk. The complexity of this brew is truly astounding. Go ahead, close your eyes and take a long draw. You instantly get the image of drinking goat urine with hints of congealed blood and feces. Is this beer special? You bet! We have tasted thousands of beers, and yet there is nothing that compares to this "devil's brew". Belching reveals a toxic gas cloud the likes of which hasn't been seen since Bhopal, India circa 1984. There's no doubt that you've had a one-off masterpiece, brewed with impeccable craftsmanship. Food pairings are a dream with this beer. We recommend pairing with Imodium, Maalox, and if you're planning on drinking more than one, a healthy helping of ipecac. Our hats off to the BC4M master brewers on another unique offering to the craft beer world."

And you know what??? It was still better than Hell or High Watermelon Wheat! If you are a professional brewer and want the recipe, hit us up. We'd love to share it with the world!

Anti-hero IPA

The following is a fantastic, descriptive beer review by Econimocirony at Beeradvocate.com.

"Walking  back to your Bridgeport flat at night; gripping your church key for the twit who tries to make off with the seventeen dollars in your pocket; you can’t help but reluctantly notice the city’s new cohort of young trollops multiplying across your back alley and front step alike. No corner goes unadorned as they mount themselves to the chipped, green primer on the avenues’ lampposts and entice you with their slim figures borne of a steady diet comprised of apricot flavored cigarettes and White Castle sliders. You’re headed home, but weren’t expecting to now. The boss told you to take a vacation - probably forever. Her immaturity, dim-wits, and newly purchased fishnets go hand-in-hand, so you invite her in. She calls you daddy, so you scold her and tell her to shut up. Nothing fits her right. The AquaNet hairspray she applied this afternoon as she rolled out of bed at 3:30pm has now cracked; flaking like the white stain on her black, loosely ill-fitting B-cup brassiere - thanks to genetics, she got at least two “A”s in her life. She needs a place to stay: you only have seventeen dollars, minus the amount you were planning on spending for dinner at the Bucky’s gas station. Again, she’s thin, rail thin; she would look fuller if she didn’t immerse herself in Tropical Agent Orange spray tan, which is nothing more than not-so-cleverly disguised Kool-Aid concentrate; sailors call it bug juice. Despite your efforts to engage her with offers of hand-rolled clove beedis and a tipple of Rittenhouse Rye, she immediately goes flat and reveals her insipid personality. The remnant aroma of what she smoked and ate last night had more character than the hoax of her projected imagination, which was nothing more than repeating punch lines from sitcoms and laughing first every time. With each sip, you wished she at least had the bubbly demeanor of a neophyte, but she bypassed the best part in favor of a feigned bitterness that faded as she lost interest. You follow suit upon finishing, but quickly realize you’ve committed for the remainder of the week; she’s staying five more days. You’ve been had, friend; you probably could have done a better job yourself. Look on the bright side; at least your dinner at Bucky’s exceeded your expectations: you still have your seventeen dollars and they carry Sculpin IPA in the icebox now.

Serving type: can"

Well said sir! Reading this one can almost taste the beer!


Flying Horse

And lastly, the BC4M review of an Indian classic, Flying Horse Lager, as read by Master Cicerone Dr. Suess:

I would not drink this with a fox,
I would not drink it in a box;

Not in a box, not with a fox,
It tastes like shit and smells like socks;

This beer they call the Flying Horse,
It tastes of stool, no surprise of course;

It says that it's a lager beer,
But smells quite like a horses rear;

Was Ganges water used to brew?
And hops? Seems like they forgot that too;

I would advise you pour this out,
It will give you the runs and probably gout;

No, I will not drink this Indian swill;
You shouldn't either, or you'll be ill.

Now for some of our own tasteless reviews from a recent meeting. We started the night with Mother Earth Old Neighborhood Oatmeal Porter (9.9%). This beer was so/so. A little too light and watery, although not at all offensive. We chased that with another North Carolina beer, Highland's Thunderstruck Coffee Porter (5.9%). This was better than the first, more body, and nice coffee flavor. Sticking with the stouts and porters, we decided to sample the latest CHC homebrew, Ice Ice Dynamite (8.4%), a Russian Imperial Stout aged with whole vanilla beans and Wild Turkey soaked oak chips. Hard to believe, but this was by far the best beer of the night. Heavy vanilla flavor in a full bodied imperial stout with a touch of whisky on the back end. Another winner in the Dynamite series. Ska Brewing Mole Stout (5.5%), was a surprise beer, Nice pepper notes, not over the top, with plenty of cocoa as well. It was well liked and rated a good. Hinterlands IPA (6.8%) ...let's start with the label. It appears cheap, kind of thing you'd find on generic beer at a WalMart. The beer itself has tons of shit floating around in it. Looks like someone may have puked into the Brite tank!The smell can only be described as rough, although the taste was a little better. This beer needs work, rating a generous so/so. Speakeasy Payback Porter (7.5%) was a solid porter. Nice flavor, good body, and a good overall rating. We ended the night with a Highland Tasgale Ale (8%), a wee heavy scotch ale. This beer was very drinkable, although at 8%, you're not going to drink too many. We rated this one a good, and called it a night. Cheers!

Andy's Big Adventure

Bim's daughter recently decided to tie the knot with her now husband Andy. Prior to the sweet nuptuals, Andy, Bim, and Andy's buddies headed to the only strip club in the Outer Banks of North Carolina, Headlights. After a lengthy application process rivaled only by a trip to the DMV, we were finally allowed into the club, Having experienced the other Headlights in rural North Carolina, we anticipated lots of farm girls with beer guts, bad C-section scars, and rotten teeth. What we got was titties and beer, OBX style! Within minutes Andy was hammered and clearly confused about where and who he was. Meanwhile, Andy's sadistic brother paid one of the strippers $50 to give him a "stage show". And just like that he was led on stage by two sultry vixens, for a very public lap dance. They mesmerized him with their titties while they casually undid his belt. Was our honorary BC4M brother about to get a very public mouth hug? No such thing! Like rabid dogs, they instantly turned on him, wrapped the belt tightly around his neck, and drove him to the ground on all fours. Rage was in their eyes as they saw, in sweet, sweet Andy, every father figure and perverted uncle who ever touched them inappropriately (undoubtedly a very long list, as these two were PISSED). They went from sexy babes to members of GWAR. Defenseless Andy, being dragged around like a dog, confused, drunk out of his mind, was about to have a life changing experience as the second whore took another leather belt, doubled it up, and commenced to whipping the shit out of him. Crack after crack, probably 20 in all, silenced every man in the crowd as we wondered if we were watching a snuff film. Andy screamed in pain with each crack of the whip, clearly not knowing what in the hell was happening. Finally, these two crazy bitches relented as their arms tired, and they allowed our ass-bruised friend to stagger back to his side of the strip bar. Then, the unthinkable happened... Andy grabbed his belt, and in an instant gave one of his captors a hard smack across the back of her legs, bringing her to her knees. The rest of us feared for our lives, as we expected a swift bouncer response. Instead, the two skanks pounced on him, hitting him a dozen more times as he staggered off stage. And during all this mess, Andy's brother sat, grinning, the entire time. I guess payback is a bitch (one with a leather belt). We left the club happy to be alive with the only casualties being our drunken friends' red ass and our belief that a strip club is a safe place for a man to kill time.

Following Andy's assault, the BC4M decided that such an experience was worthy of an honorary membership, even for our wine drinking sommelier brother. The following week, Brother Bim shared the above story while we shared another stellar collection of beers. We started with a Cisco Brewers Island Reserve Tripel Ale (9.5%). It was not great. Not bad, but not spectacular. Kind of like purgatory...could be better, but could have been a whole lot worse. It rated a good. Buzzards Bay (Just Beer) The Golden Flounder (4.6%) was a big bottle of nothingness, getting a so/so. Cucapa Green Card Barleywine (10%) tasted like carbonated blood. Too boozy, nothing subtle about this beer. A so/so rating was generous on our part. Fremont Interurban IPA (6.2%) was full of tropical flavors, prompting Fred to remark that he tasted "starfruit on the front end and chocolate starfish on the back end," whatever that means. Regardless, we all liked it, rating it a good. Sly Fox 113 IPA (6.6%) was a weird mess. Grape flavors, very dry, not what we want in an IPA. It was the first pour out of the night rating a sucks. We followed that with the Yeastie Boys Rex Attitude (7%). As soon as the first glass was poured, Bim dumped his out. The odor was beyond offensive. Snake said it reminded him of burning elephant dung in the African bush. Chicago Mike commented that the taste was either Sucrets or paint thinner, or both. This shit was horrible. Really guys, people can't really be drinking this shit can they? Oh the humanity!!!We chased that disaster with the Yeastie Boys Pot Kettle Black (6%). This American Black Ale was good, but tasted more like a porter. Anything would have been better than their previous offering. Green Man Imperial Stout, The Dweller (9.5%), while rating a good, it had nothing special to offer for a Imperial Stout. Ass Kisser Smoked Porter (8.03%) was surprisingly good, coming from this brewery, rating a good. Mikkeller It's Alive (8.0%) is a Belgian Wild Ale, full of funk, but very little sour. In general, there was very little taste at all, rating a so/so. Flying Dog Road Dog Porter (6%)was light and weak for a porter, rating a so/so. We ended the night with a Heretic Brewing Co. Worry Belgian Strong Ale (9.8%). This beer had a buttery, fruity flavor with a hint of soap. Regardless, we liked it, rating it a good. We ended the night, tossed a few bottles, and reminded each other to always go beltless and never get the "managers special" when visiting strip clubs!

D-Rail's "How I met Your Mother"

Many years ago, in the small Guatemalan fishing village of Aguacatan (Spanish for "nectar of the prostate"), BC4M's D-Rail was a bright and gregarious young lad who was the rising star on the local "futbol" pitch. Although his family's bamboo and guacamole leaf hut was meager by even Sub-Saharan Africa standards, the living room held a 70 inch plasma display tv and both an Xbox 360 and PS3 thanks to the extra coin he received from moonlighting as a "companion for hire". One night his life would be forever changed when a visiting turnip green heiress named Matilda Throbinson hired him sight unseen to be her escort for the evening. One evening turned into 3 weeks of conjugal bliss traipsing through the dense rain forests of Central America and D-Rail became both smitten and suffering from an acute case of chlamydia. Despite his penile malady, he agreed to leave his homeland and accompany Matilda back to her country manor in rural Virginia. She spared no expense on his education, and after only 15 years of intense study, aided by countless hours of practice with Rosetta Stone, he eventually spoke broken English. He spent his winters in Milan and Paris as a "fashionista" and summers traveling the U.S. on the "cornhole" circuit chasing a championship title in the hotly contested "bilingual left handed latino" category. His fanciful existence was short lived, as one day after being crowned the "Culo Maestro" of Des Moines, he received a telegram saying Matilda had passed away suddenly after becoming in the parlance of the adult film world, "airtight", with a group calling themselves the "A-Team". Depression set in and after many lost years chasing an endless line of streetwalkers, lamaze class mothers to be and "furries", D-Rail took a chance on finding love from an online dating/mail order bride website. Months of searching profiles led him to be enamored with a fetching young mamasan named Kokohontas who, according to her profile was a virginal 19 who worked as an "entertainment ambassador" in an upper class suburb of Hanoi. He informed us that he was soon headed east to claim his bride, so we gathered at Bim's to drink a few to both celebrate his new found love and to send him off in style in case he found himself locked away in a Vietnamese prison on charges of contributing to the delinquency of a minor. Chicago Mike and Fred joined the small gathering and commenced the proceedings by opening a Triple Digit Aftermath (10.5%). A wee heavy style, this one was sweet and not too boozy rating a good. Next was a brown ale, Half Acre's Over Ale (6.0%) which was smooth and easy drinking also rating a good. Moving on, we tried a Freetail Brewing Velocihoptor (6.5%) which Bim kept calling Velociraptor. "This ain't Jurassic Park you old fuck" said Fred, while Bim simply replied "I like dinosaurs". A decent IPA, it was more malty than hoppy, so it got a good, the same rating as Flat 12 Brewing's Half Cycle IPA (6.0%). While we pulled more beers from the cooler, we watched D-Rail attack the appetizers with the voracity of a polesmoker wolfing down a specialty "donut". Next was a Caldera Hopportunity Knocks (6.8%), an IPA that tasted like an infected bar of Dial soap. "This shit sucks" said Bim, as Chicago Mike added, "I wouldn't scrub my taint with this crap". A sucks, we moved on to Rock Art Brewery's Black Moon (10.0%). A nice black IPA, this one was mellow and ultra smooth, belying its high alcohol content. "Fuck that is good" said Fred, while D-Rail, who's face by this time was smeared with cheese dip agreed. Next up was a new one from Tyranena, Dirty Old Man (7.90%), which featured a picture of Bim on the label.

"I love sponge baths", Bim exclaimed, in his best "Herbert the Pervert" voice. Aged in rye barrels, the taste was a bit thin but still decent so it got a good. We then tried Rogue's Double Chocolate Stout (8.0%) which once again proved Rogue has some sweet bottles with less than stellar beer inside. "Tastes like a cheap bowl of generic Cocoa-Puffs" said D-Rail, while Bim added, "I love sponge baths". So/so was the result as we turned towards a 3 Floyd's Gumballhead (4.5%). A pale wheat beer, it is easily one of the best examples we have ever tasted. "That is some good shit" said Chicago Mike, "but even better on draft". Smooth and flavor filled, it was a winner and got a really good. A palette cleanser was offered next in the form of Matthew Clark Cider's Williams Sir Perry (6.0%). This is a traditional pear cider and it tasted like a souped up version of a Bartles & Jaymes wine cooler. "Weak as fuck" said Fred, who added "he was a great actor but he sucks as a cider maker". "Thats Michael Clark Duncan you dipshit" said Chicago Mike as we gave this one a so/so. Since it was getting close to time for D-Rail to go have a "skype chat" with his lady, we decided to end the night with one final beer. "What the fuck is skype chat" said Mike, "does that mean you dress up in a tuxedo t-shirt and marble bag and talk dirty to her?". Despite that disturbing visual, we pried open a Surly Wet (7.5%), a fresh hopped beer that was canned only seven days prior. The nose was clean and full of citrus notes, and the taste was phenomenal. Crisp and hoppy, this was easily the best beer of the night and got a really good. As we left, we wished D-Rail well on his upcoming 22 hour flight and hoped he returned alive, well and no longer solo. Until next time kids...thats the story of how D-Rail "met your mother"