Wild Black, & Flying Dog Disobedience
Damn, it’s been a minute, hasn’t it? Sorry about that. It’s not that I’ve abstained from drinking, (pause to hear your collective sighs of relief) but rather that I’ve been busier than a customs agent trying to stop the flow of cholo-lobbed counterfeit lunch meat lately. Some of you were probably thinking, Oh, it’s good that The Codpiece finally put his self-destructive behavior behind him. No one can consume that much hooch and hellmeat and survive. Maybe now he’ll turn over a new leaf and start giving back to the community or something.
We have been here for years, and you people still don’t know me. I have nothing against self-improvement, my internet buddy Amber is currently on a journey of wellness and self-resets, and if you’d like to read some inspiring writing on the subject, check her out here. But, as much as I wish Amber all the success in the world, we’re in two very different places.
Yes, I do go to the gym regularly. I have to lift those weights so that I can look good when the Red Hat Society and I conveniently show up at Denny’s at the same time. Just fucking with ya, those ladies haven’t talked to me since the Great Bingo Orgy And Totally Accidental Electrified Pomeranian Incident. I go to the gym and lift weights sort of like how I make payments on my credit card. I pay well over the minimum, sure, but let’s be honest, I’m not going to get out of this life debt free. Nope, I jack myself up so I can pour more poison and Mexican Hatecrimes right back in. It’s not the best plan, but when the reaper and I start our inevitable ninja charge at one another, at least I’ll be in good enough shape to maybe do something stupid to him before he kills me. I dunno, put a bucket on his head or some shit.
Just as good, I guess.
And with all that out of the way, I bring you two new beer reviews. Let’s get to them.
Anheuser-Busch , Wild Black
A beer so new I couldn’t even find proper pictures of it on the internet. Hope you enjoy my Lannister-esque drapes.
Anheuser-Busch created Wild Blue a few years ago to kind of sneak in the craft beer uprising like a huge corporate narc. It’s their shot at a high ABV fruit beer, and nowhere on the label does it say anything about being tethered to InBev through the Clydesdale fail wagon. Sneaky indeed, but all you had to do was taste the beer to know that it had been the victim of brew-by-committee shenanigans. They decided that wanted a fruit beer, so they went with blueberries, they decided they wanted it not to be a pussy beer and have an ABV that would give it some ‘street cred’.* They didn’t like the way that tasted, so they added more blueberries. You could still taste the alcohol, so they added more sweeteners. Then, when they were done, they had a 260 calorie beer, (Guinness is less than half that) slapped a crafty looking label on it, and released it into the world to facilitate date rapes everywhere.
“Dimetapp Grape? Yeah, I know it does. Have some more.”
Well, if you thought that Wild Black was going to be any different, you were wrong. In true don’t-fix-it-unless-over-half-the-population-goes-blind fashion, all Anheuser did was change the fruit (Blackberries now), put a different dog on the label, and call it good. You should really skip this, especially if you’re new to fruit beers. This shit might make you swear them off for all time.
That dog is kind of cute, though.
Wrapping this sad shit up:
Taste: Like a bad ripple. I feel like I should be under a bridge with a broken ciggerette hanging out of my mouth, shouting about the Peanut-Butter Overloard.
Drinkability: If you like cough syrup…Naw, fuck it, keep drinking cough syrup.
Hangover rating: It’s not so much the hangover, as it is waking up still drunk.
Flying Dog Disobedience
By the way, Anheuser, that is how you put a picture of your product up on the internet.
Flying Dog is my favorite brewery, hands down. Yes, I know I’ve prattled on like a poff before for New Belgium, and they are a close second, but Flying Dog, man, they’re who got me into good beer in the first place. The bottles that started my over 200 bottle collection? Flying Dog. Poster in my house? Flying Dog. Best goddamn Imperial Porter? Flying Dog. Also, only about twenty minutes away? Flying dog. ‘Good Beer, No Shit.’ is printed right there on some of the bottles, and when some folks in Colorado said, ‘Hey, you can’t do that.’ They said, ‘Oh, fuck yes, we can.’ There are quotes from Hunter S. Thompson all over thier products. These are my kind of people, is what I’m saying.
So, when I learned that they had released a limited edition corked and caged bottle holding a over 7 ABV maple sweetened brew, I kind of had a fanboy moment.
“Dear God, can it be?”
But…even fanboys get the blues, right? Just ask all those people who waited in line forever to see the Phantom Menace when it first came out. They went in looking like they were chewing cocaine candy and came out looking like Jar-jar Binks shit in their tub of popcorn. Or, more recently, when the Green Lantern movie had Ryan Reynolds fucking their eye sockets for nearly two hours with a giant CGI green dildo of misfortune.
Well, this is nothing like that. Go out and get you some of this shit. It is absolutely fantastic. There are dark fruits at work. The alcohol is there, but way in the back, just chilling. The maple syrup slides over your tongue like something ethereal.
Eating this with some glazed ham would be like licking the inside of a Seraphim’s thigh. Go. Get. This. Shit.
Taste: Somehow dark and light at the same time, with a hint of sweetness.
Drinkability: Surprisingly easy, considering the ABV
Cost: $11/ 1 pint, 9 oz. Uh, it’s a collector’s item? It’s worth it. Go get it.
This entry was posted on April 20, 2012 at 11:23 am and is filed under Spirit Guide with tags Alcohol, Beer, Death., Drinking, Flying Dog Disobedience, InBev, IRISH, Wild Black. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.