Beers Eye Drunk

The best thing I can say about Wychwood's Scarecrow is that it was on sale, enabling me to actually try it. I'm strapped for cash thanks to some serious ass-tasticism from my company. I was quite certain that my next entry in the blog was going to be a review of Michelob Ultra, and I was even toying with the idea of reviewing new Black Cherry Vanilla Coke, which tastes like Cherry Coke and Vanilla Coke mixed in one bottle... real creative stuff there. Luckily, H.E.B. had a sale on this beer I've been longing to try, but much to my dismay, it's not very good.

I'm sorry to say that. I really, really wanted it to be delicious. I like the label. I like Scarecrows. I like strange Pale Ales, and hey the promise of a so-called "Golden Pale Ale" made me fairly certain this was going to be one of the high-points of my beer-odyssey. Oh, but aside from the faint hint of apple in the aftertaste, this beer lacked anything of interest. And a flat, weak and unimpressive beer is the absolute last thing I need.

What can I say? I wasted my money at a time when I can't afford to waste money on beer. To make matters worse, I even planned for the worse, and my back up plan failed. I got myself a Sam Adams reduced price variety pack and all three beers, the Brown, the Black, and the Hef, all sucked. Well, actually, I'd say the brown ale was okay, but was kind of like a high school drama club performance of Shakespeare. It's a great script, but the execution was terribly lacking in maturity, subtlety, and sophistication. And that was the best of the three. The Hef tastes like I made it last night in the kitchen using cleaning products and ketchup packets mixed with Coors. The Black is a gritty insult to the its genre.

To put it in ever-popular football terminology, both Scarecrow and Sam Adams were called off the bench when I needed them most and they blew the big game. And I might be being a bit hard on them because money is tight, but hey, I'm an aficionado, which means that I have to use spell check a lot so I can make sure I don't look stupid when I try to use that word. It also means I am to beer, what Gandhi was to starvation. I make this look good. I own this turf and I don't have time for sissy beers no matter how cool the bottle looks.

Short of a major beeracle, which is like a miracle only it involves much more beer, I will be forced to review beers a little more sporadically. Pretty much the on-sale status of the world's finer beers will determine how often I am able to review them. I am currently writing a grant proposal that will probably be turned down... They're still upset about my other pending grant proposal to give the pope a face lift. I mean he's the pope. He's gotta look good for Jesus, right? See, no one understands me like beer does, and that's why I know we'll be back together again some day soon.