Week 8: Life and Limb 10% ABV

Phone: "Ring Ring Rreeeeeiing"

Sierra Nevada: "Hello"

Dogfish Head: "Yo-daddio"

Dogfish Head: "Dude, you guys make good beers n stuff."

Sierra Nevada: "Ch-ya"

Dogfish Head: "So like, you wanna go out?"

Sierra Nevada: "Like go steady go out?"

Dogfish Head: "Yeah like collaborate and maybe go to the mall afterwards"

Sierra Nevada: "Like, whatever"

Dogfish Head: "Rock on, well you start making a beer and then I'll add some secret sauce"

Sierra Nevada: "uhhhhhh"

Dogfish Head: "Not that secret sauce, I'm thinking something more like Maple Syrup"

Sierra Nevada: "As long as you're paying, whatever"

Sierra Nevada: "You know I have a yeast problem right?"

Dogfish Head: "It's cool I've got some wood we can use"

Sierra Nevada: "I have wood too"

Dogfish Head: "Ok thats creepy"

Sierra Nevada: "Ch-yaaa"

Dogfish Head: "......."

Dogfish Head: "Does this mean no date to the mall?"

Sierra Nevada: " :)"

Sierra Nevada: "Bye"

Dogfish Head: "Lates"

Week 7: Russian River Redemption 5% ABV

Like all the greats quests of lore; Amerigo Vespucci's trip to Amerigo's Land, Ulysses' Odyssey to bang Sea Sirens, Frodo Baggins and Temple of Doom, so to was Don's quest to the far off country of Caleef Fornia in search of LARP'ers unknown! Dressed in regalia that of a perhaps a half Blood Elf, Don fought wizards and warriors by day, and drank great beer by night. In a convention center that would make members of GWAR blush, Don discussed the intricacies of rolling a d20 against a level 12 Frost Mage, which as we all know, makes any Death Knight thirsty. To quench his monster thirst, Don quested to the Mines of Moria also know as the Russian River Brewery in search of the Treasures of Azeroth, also known as Beer. After slaying the dragon guarding the horde, and a $55 dollar surcharge, Don returned to Newt Hampshire Hollow victorious with his bounty of grog for all to see!!! Behold and Rejoice serfs!!! Redemption Ale for all!!!

Week 6: Gritty's Best Bitter 5.00% ABV

This weeks beer holds a special placard in my repertoire of beers. Back when the author was a wee heavy lad of not drinking age, Gritty's was the go to beer of choice. The plan usually revolved around finding a friend of drinking age, usually "Dumbweed Dunphe" and having them order a pitcher at some place on the docks of the Old Port. Like a suckling pig weaning to health on the teat of mothers milk, so to was a young lad learning the flavors of the world on carafe after carafe of Gritty's Best Bitter. Ahh the sweat nectar of life!

Week 5: Long Trail Triple Bag 9.20%ABV

The Urban Dictionary defines Triple Bag as "before engaging in sex with a butt ugly chick, you place one paper bag over her head, one over your head in case the first one breaks and one over your dog so that he still respects you in the morning." The same can be said for anyone lucky enough to pound a couple of these beers, because you'll surely regret it the next morning. Moooo!

Week 4: Old Rasputin Imperial Stout ABV 9%

I do a lot of reading. One of my favorite subjects is history. There was this feller by the name of Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin, went by plain Rasputin to his friends. As a kid Rasputin and his younger brother were out swimming in a river and he saved his kid brother from drowning. Folks in the town attributed it to mystical powers. By the time he was a teenager, Rasputin had a harem of prostitutes and was a bit of a deviant you could say. Life was going pretty good for him and he started rubbing shoulders with the Tsar and his gentry up in Saint Petersburg. Rasputin was something of a shaman, and as such he did not keep clean facilities about himself. Folks did not take kindly to him. One night a rival of the Tsar up and decided to kill old Rasputin. Here's where it gets interesting. They invited him to a party and poisoned his tea and cake loaded up with enough cyanide to drop an oxen to his knees, but dang if Rasputin didn't flinch. So like any good assassin, they shot him in the back. C'ept that didn't kill him neither. When the killer went to get his coat, Rasputin got up and cold cocked him one. So they stabbed him, clubbed him, and shot him in the back three more times and cut off his unmentionables for good measure. Thinking the job was done, they wrapped him in a shawl and threw him into a frozen river. Course when the autopsy came back... he had water in his lungs, so the official cause of death was drowning. Anyway I digress. Since this supposed to be a beer blog about beer, I thought my sorted story would relax what ails ya, and prompt you to pop a cold one. I'll leave you with two pictures up above. One Rasputin BEFORE a six'er of Old Rasputin Imperial Stout, and one is a picture of him AFTER.

Week 3: Dogfish Head Pangaea ABV 7%

Falling Waters graced us with this fine selection from everyone's perennial favorite brewery Dogfish Head. This brewery was named after a point in Maine, and if you asked anyone where Dogfish Head was, they would surely tell you about two feet from it's ass! In all seriousness, this is a solid brau, spicy, meaty, with tons of flavor. Mad scientist and Keanu Reeves stand-in Sam Calagione created this beer by incorporating ingredients from all seven continents, a homage to the all powerful super landmass that existed back in the days when Jesus rode dinosaurs. The Dogfish Head site suggests the beer be consumed with food. Since they're not specific as to "which" food, that leaves billions of possible pairings to choose from. Being a bit of an eccentric mad scientist myself, I paired this beer with a kale and garlic salad, 3 grain wild rice with apples and Panko encrusted woodcock and partridge breast sauteed in bacon grease. NOM NOM. Sam was right, this beer pairs well with any food. I finished the rest of the bottle in front of a fire and watched satellites buzz overhead, endlessly circling the fractured Pangaea below.

Week 2: Allagash Tripel ABV 9%

This weeks selection was the Belgian especial from Allagash. Since it was my week to choose a beer, I decided to go with a hometown favorite. Also, since everyone blew off reviewing my beer, I'm going to sum it up in one phrase. Drinking this beer is like spending warm summer days indoors, writing frightening verses to a bucktoothed girl in Luxembourg. It's the bomb, the bomb, the bomb.