Scuttlebutt Hoptopia Imperial IPA
Hop wave: a parabolic force of lip-smacking energy cresting frothy and boiling on yer tonsils; borne of cataclysmic bitter acids and sun-soaked nuggets from a wily vine of hops.
Sinking and slumping backwards into yer favorite drinking position, quaff in repose. The heavy rains are still far off and yer cochlear itches aren’t worth scratching yet. But you cannot ignore the pungent stench of hop leaves drifting through yer ear canals as sip after sip of this ale slithers its way down yer gullet.
Like footballers and referees, you are expected to get along professionally with one another. And so too is it with you and Scuttlebutt. Every working relationship requires the promise of a knowing wink and taught handshake—two elements that sneakily dribble down the sides of yer empty pint glass.
No, this is not a traditional business model. There’s too much temptation here to indulge in yer successful partnership. Take one another home and consume one another. A vixen draped in hop dew, sweating citrus charms to lure yer signature on a liquid contract. One more pint? It might be necessary.
- 1 year ago
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