Jester wrote: ↑
Thu Oct 05, 2017 1:59 pm
hugodrax wrote: ↑
Thu Oct 05, 2017 1:35 pm
sweetandsour wrote: ↑
Thu Oct 05, 2017 1:18 pm
hugodrax wrote: ↑
Thu Oct 05, 2017 1:10 pm
tuttle wrote: ↑
Thu Oct 05, 2017 6:32 am
Sir Moose wrote: ↑
Wed Oct 04, 2017 9:15 pm
hugodrax wrote: ↑
Wed Oct 04, 2017 3:59 pm
DepartedLight wrote: ↑
Wed Oct 04, 2017 3:54 pm
Pumpkin Ale is anathema.
I'm glad I'm not the only one who sees it.
Pumpkin Ale is more American than apple pie! (check it
Due to the lack of proper malts and the fact that pumpkin was unknown in Europe during the colonial era, pumpkin ale is uniquely American (well...colonial American...but so was the Revolution, so there).
So if you hate pumpkin ale, the obvious conclusion is that you hate America and everything she was founded upon.
Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel, you know. Plenty of unpleasant things are more American than apple pie (which is a pretty sorry excuse for a pie, by the way). Getting scalped by an Indian is pretty damned American but you never did see anyone lining up for the privilege or reenacting it joyously, have you?
No, pumpkin ale is just a sign that Europeans will go to any lengths to make an alcoholic beverage. In times of dearth, I could turn a blind eye to cannibalism, but that doesn't mean I'm going to do it when I have plenty of alternatives.
And finally, it came from that most loathsome of people, the Pilgrims. People so saintly they were kicked out of at least two countries for being real arseholes before they got here. A priggish, loutish, ill-educated bunch of witch burning anti-Catholics more medieval than the Inquisition. I will have no truck with them, Sir.
You can take pumpkin beer and shove it. Or give it to Skip, I don't care. That man will drink anything with alcohol in it.
So, like me, you've never tried it.
Hah! Unfortunately, no. I have tried it. Three or four iterations (my wife is a fan), which ranged from pumpkin-pie flavored to bitter vegetal. I find neither end of that flavor spectrum pleasant.
The older I get the more I just want a beer if I'm having a beer. I don't need a glass of grapefruit juice and pine tar, nor do sour beers nor fruity beers nor pumpkin beers nor cayenne chocolate stouts (like that sonofabitch that snuck up on me yesterday and tried to kill me) ring my proverbial bell.
I have place for exactly three kinds of beers which taste, to me, of beer: Pilsners, Scottish Ales, and Stouts/Porters. Made the way God intended them, now, mind you--no guavas nor coffee in my porter, no food dye in my Scottish Ale, and no fugging mango juice in my pilsner.
I return you to your regularly scheduled programming. May God Bless America, and save Her from this beer faggotry.
We get it Hugo, you are getting older and you hate beer.
How does a cayenne chocolate stout sneak up on you? Did you not read the label? Only read the alcohol content, maybe. All hints of a man with a bottle shaking in hand. An eighth of the bottle didn't even make it in your mouth, did it? No it didn't, it slid down your clean cut face because real men who like pumpkin beer have beards.
Jester, I notice two disturbing things in the above post. One, you have minimal rant skills. Two, you seem to equate beer enjoyment with masculinity. That's the view of the boor or the child. You're young yet, so I'll show you some indulgence. Alcohol isn't the measure of a man. How he handles the booze, should he choose to drink, is probably a better standard.
You see, son, they have these things called "bars." You walk in and order a draft. It's a little more convenient than waiting for your brother to bring you a beer. Think about it--if you liked the beer, you could order another one! Well, ask your brother if he's ever been in one of those modern bars with all of the drafts up on a chalkboard. It's like a menu on the wall. You know what a draft beer is, right? No bottles. No labels. Deciding you didn't want a "Smurfberry Sour Beer" or any of the other cutesy things on offer, you order a Minotaur Nitro Stout. You don't ask the bartender, "Hey, does that have cayenne and coffee in it?" because, frankly, the thought that it might doesn't even occur to you. Surely it would have a name indicating this fact? And what mincing queen would do that to a good stout?
You drain half the pint without thinking. Long day. Velvety nitro stout. It isn't until you've finished that you notice a sour burning in the back of your throat making its way down your esophagus. Thinking maybe it's you, you finish the beer. Heartburn commences. You tell the bartender and learn. Interesting.
Apparently, there is a subset of humanity that enjoys burning beer. They probably think the measure of a man is in the quality of his beard, eh? One of those things anybody with a spot of testosterone can grow. You know why I shaved my beard? Because of the preening, prancing collection of girly men wandering around in fitted artisinal flannel shirts and white-soled Redwing boots that have never seen any mud, all sporting identical bald fade greaser haircuts and competing with each other over who can be more disgustingly focused on his beard. Their hands are constantly in them, or, worse still, they comb them in public. They clean them carefully after each swig of beer. They talk about, sometimes even make, suspect creams, potions, and unguents for their hairy chins. Their pomades are subjects of conversation.
No, while I agree a beard is a fine enough thing in principle and distrust men who cannot grow them, I decided that the way to distance myself as much as possible from the guy who thinks a beer is hot stuff as long as it's weird enough was to shave. And to keep shaving. Monday through Sunday. Like a boss, not like some guy that "works in advertising" and is really into tiny houses and has an instagram account filled with hunting and fishing and camping photographs other people took even though he gets his nails done and lives in a 3500 a month walkup apartment.
It's nice not to smell spoiled milk after eating an ice cream cone, too.
Either that or I just don't really like beer. Hell, you might be right.
Notre Dame de Paris, priez pour nous y comprise les Jesuites.