An endless keg of baudy swill-related nonsense that elaborates and explicates the position that, in order to enjoy reading about beer, we must discuss our social circumstances, drinking environment and mental processes.
Showing posts tagged david foster wallace's corpse
Appallingly grotesque metaphor: David Foster Wallace’s corpse reanimated as a bum in the early morning light transposed with the first 15 minutes of a Next Generation episode. That’s Oskar Blues Gordon DIPA…more or less.
Now I’m not as thirsty as the bum who was willing to pay me for a face full of dog piss but I am certainly always ready for a good DIPA. 2 days and halway down a growler, this beer puts me in a good mood before dinner and a better mood after a Captain Picard verbal smackdown. And the like the ridges of Lieutenant Worf’s brow, the hops in the beer cut a bristling line across the top of your mouth. But the flavor doesn’t pain you, it sails like heinous JFK-like sailboat on a sea of bourbon.
Traditional is the mildest adjective I can think of for this brew. Isn’t that terribly interesting? Please do try this Colorado delicacy. No, I have not been paid to say that…yet.