Beers Eye Drunk

Honey-sweet smell. Creamy like a cappuccino. Delicious. Smooth. Not at all bitter. Packs a punch. English. They do things differently over there like how they ride on the same side of the street as drunk me.

What of it?

This beer blog is just for me so I can better remember what I've already tried so I can waste less money having the same crappy microbrews over and over again. If I were in a settling down mood, I could settle on Old Speckled Hen, as the most generally pleasing beer I can fathom. There's really nothing else I've had which would appeal to a broader scope of people.

And by the way, I would never drive drunk, because my girlfriend drives the car most of the time, because she knows the importance of my research and that I drive slower than Democracy in China.

Anyhow, try the Hen. It is well put together... unlike this latest entry.

If you are looking for a fun place to go and drink some beers, please don't come to my house. I only have a few beers and they're for me and my dog. I do not mind it if you should choose to go to Savannah, GA for some beer, where I was last week. While I did not have any really memorable beer, what was more than worth it for me was the ability to drink it outside in really tacky plastic cups. Hurray! Hurray!

If a Viking warrior lives a noble life and dies in battle, he shall go to Valhalla. If you are sober enough to drive, you can go to the Party Barn. It's much easier than looting a small country and just as fun.

The selection is merely okay, but you can actual drive into this converted garage and have your car filled with beer or liquor, like you would gasoline or wiper fluid. Now that's service!

Party Barn is where I got Shipyard's Pumpkin Ale, which is mediocre, with a very unnatural pumpkin aftertaste. Mostly it tastes like beer with something vaguely wrong with it. And if you didn't know it was supposed to be that way, Pumpkinny, I think you'd mistake it for being on the experimental side of boring. But, hey, I sure did love visiting the Party Barn. And what kind of selection could you expect from people who work in a barn, anyway? I grew up in central New York state and the only connoisseurs who set foot in barns where usually looking for a different kind of party which often times landed them in jail on sodomy charges. Party Barn is nothing like that. The prices are reasonable, and if you're looking to load up on some tried-and-true commercial beers, they've got your ass covered. Ass coverage is very important, especially in barns.

Party Barn - 3300 Guadalupe StAustin, TX 78705

Today I wasted good money on a terrible movie, but in the depths of hell I was luck enough to discover Independence Brown Ale, brewed in Austin, TX.

Independence Brown Ale is chocolaty, while Doom stars The Rock, which is a fitting name for the epic piece of feces which would best resemble this movie. No, I take that back. Crapzilla. That's the name.Independence Brown Ale is not too filling, while the experience of watching Doom was kind of like someone opening a portal to my brain and filling my skull to capacity with twelve year-old cottage cheese.

And another thing about this beer; There was no burnt aftertaste. Nothing at all unpleasant like the horrible images of poorly lit, pathetically executed slaughter burned into my poor poor retinas by that lousy excuse for a horror-action movie.

While Doom spits in the face of the Aliens and even makes Event Horizon look like a damned opera, Independence Brown Ale is a quality dark beer, which will please the pallet of anyone in the mood for the genre.

If there was some way I could destroy all memory of having seen Doom and replace it with the memory of drinking this beer, I would. However, I fear the two things will forever be connected in my mind. On the flip side, if ever a whole in the sky should open up above my head and ten-thousand pounds of raw sewage should inexplicably dump itself upon my head, perhaps, having had a similar experience, I will call to memory the delicious taste of Independence Brown Ale.

There's nothing I like more than keeping it real with my homies on the weekend. Being also somewhat German, I quite enjoyed Bitburger's German malt liquor. It's sweet, smells of honey, and will knock you on your ass if you have more than one. It's a little heavy on the tongue, but the punch it packs really distracts from any sensation of flatness. While not really the most exciting beer I've had in a while, I have actually had it, which makes it pretty exciting for me since I'm currently averaging at one exotic imported beer every month or so. What can I say? For me, keeping it real means sitting around, mentally exhausted from my mind-fuck of a job, too afraid to get drunk because of it might serve as the closing argument in a well-presented case for what a sub-par human being I am for having no culture, joy, or ambition in my life. Yeah and when I said "homies"... well, that's the name I've given to the crusty things I sometimes step on in the living room, which are probably just dried boogers I must have picked at some point subconsciously... or rather, conscious but ashamedly. So, yeah, for those of you with actual lives, who want to chill on the weekend with something sophisticated and you don't mind getting drunk, because during the weekdays you actually have a life with some semblance of meaning, then I implore you to try Bitburger, the German malt liquor which is probably wasted on a chump like me, but only costs $1.19 at H.E.B. So, whether you're trying to stay a couple notches above completely pathetic or if you're just attracted to the pale golden sweetness only Germany can provide, Bitburger will suit your fancy. Now that my fancy is suited, I will pick it out a nice golden yellow tie to match it and then I will fail miserably at tying the tie and after about four attempts I will give up and masturbate until I fall asleep hoping God is real and that he takes everything good in my life away from me so I don't have to constantly worry about how it's only fair that I lose it. Alas, my Bitburger is the first thing to go. So long delicious friend! Safe travels. May you destroy the brain cells enabling my futile attempts to write.

In college in upstate New York I drank a lot of beer I couldn't get elsewhere in the country. Schlitz, for bad example. Now, one thing I noticed that I had to explain to folks in California is that Schlitz does produce a beer in a can, not just the malt liquor. When they start to wrap their head around this idea, they almost always catch a little vomit in their mouth or at least pretend to. In addition, a few beers that I did enjoy for the flavor were sadly unavailable in California.

As I mentioned before Saranac beers were not around and neither were Cooperstown brews. Also, only the lamest of the Sam Adams specialty beers were available, like Light or Cranberry Ass. But I am proud to announce two amazing, life-altering events for me this week. I have moved to Austin, TX and they have Sam Adams Cherry Wheat.

While I personally don't think this beer really tastes much like cherries, I do believe whole-heartedly in the power of its wheatiness. However, smell the cherries! I can! Flavorful, thick, and smooth this beer is pleasing and quite memorable, if only somewhat cherry-esque. While it has nothing to do with the spirit of Austin, I could really give a terd, because I've been craving this beer for two years.

And while I should be hunting around to find the best regional offerings, I'm not, because it's 100 degrees out there and I have air conditioning and Cherry Wheat at home. Now yesterday I did have a beer from Peru, which tasted a lot like some other beers I've had and didn't leave much of an impact on me. I don't even remember what kind of beer it was. The only way I could remember it less is if I drank seventeen more of them and fell asleep on the patio of the coffee shop.

Well, that's not Cherry Wheat. I've actually been having one a day. Not just because that's the amount my wimpy stomach can fit after dinner... not because that's about as many beers as I can have on a weekday without my girlfriend giving me that look... Nope. I enjoy it. I savor it. I am a cheap man who wants to milk all the happiness I can suck out of this precious, wonderful $6.99 beer.

Let's hear it for Texas!