Also, it might be the most expensive shotgun beer review ever. I’ma get in touch with pay-per-view for the next one, all signing titties and whatnot on the way to the parking lot.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=TbHy2QA3MBY

If I ever see someone drinking this at a bar, I will likely kill myself for being at a bar that serves it.

The assholes who market this shit say it’s “triple-filtered,” whatever the fuck that means. That’s three times more than I want. They’ve obviously filtered the taste and the color, but I can’t figure out what the third is. I’m guessing it’s the fucking souls of anyone involved in making, marketing, selling, delivering or drinking this swill. (Gingers don’t have souls, so I’m safe.) Seriously, it tastes like a goddamn sentient turd took a piss and taught that piss how to go throughout the land, all procreating into blue fucking bottles with shiny-ass labels for the retards who buy in to marketing to drink in bars so shitty you have to have a fucking cleft asshole to drink there.

And OH MY FUCKING GOD! SO MUCH FUCKING ALCOHOL. 6.0%. Goddamn that’s alot for a fucking beer that tastes worse than stale corn syrup. The fucking assholes buying chicks this stuff will save on their goddamn rohypnol bills for the month and can spend more buying caps that only fit backwards and false masculinity.

This is what is fucking wrong with Amurrika goddammit! This represents every bullshit little thing where we settle for mediocrity. This is fucking poor education. This is the fucking suburbs. This is xenophobia, bigotry and apathy all rolled into a little goddamn bottle that helps us deal with our shitty fucking lives one more day so we can do it all again.

But hey. It’s a fucking beer. A fucking shitty, watered down, mass-produced, marketed-to-the-masses, goddamned metonym for our pathetic little lives. Drink a real beer, you fucking pussies.

What I got you gotta get it put it in you.

Well I’m obviously researching and sciencing the hell out of this beer, as evidenced by my computering, but I think I’ve found the problem. I’m putting it inside me and not the other way around. But I like it better that way.

Green Flash has put together a bitter-ass concoction that blows me away each and every time. I’d hesitate to call this one “balanced,” but it’s the perfect goddamn balance of fucking bittering hops and a slight sweet malt for me to deep throat the fuck out of. None of that pussy-ass approachable bullshit here. This motherfucker is aggressive and rapey of the taste buds. In the good way.

So I’ll keep drinking instead of sharing. Except for this one more money shot so that you can see the fucking beauteous color.

it's a fucking honey pot.

This shit be top notch.

Well I’ll be god dammed.  I went into the beer store with a sixer of my go-to (Two Hearted) and asked the dude at the counter for a recommendation on another solid IPA.  Lo and Behold!  This shit is amazing.  Plenty-o-hops and a tasteful amount of alcohol weighing in at 7.3%.  It comes highly recommended.  Tell ‘em Fucker sent ya.

Well, I’ve got a new project you should check out:

It’s pretty awesome, so if you’re not lame you should toss me a few bucks.

Mexican Standoff. I fucking win.

Goddamn, this is a heavy-ass stout. And goddamn if it ain’t sweet as fuck right up front, followed by a little cinnamon bite and after the third sip or so you get the fucking habanero burn. After a few more fucking sips, the vanilla and cocoa nibs come through and my beerection subsists. I’m starting to lose blood from my brain due to this thing. I may have to see a doctor. This priapism gonna kill me.

What would Jesus drink? This fucking beer.