Beer. I like beer. Probably because I'm Irish, more likely because I have an addictive personality.
i recently drank a "beer" that destroyed the love affair, Pyramid Brewery's Apricot Ale. Here is the text of the e-mail I sent them earlier tnioght:
Dear Sirs and Madams of the Pyramid Brewery,
I bought a sixer of your Thunderhead IPA (excellent, by the way, preserving the floral nature
of the hops while giving the beer a kick without bitterness) and didn't notice in the course of the
night that a single bottle of your Apricot Ale was hidden amongst the delicious IPA. While there
were three of us, I managed to lose our Irish Roulette, and ended up with your bottle of Apricot Ale.
I never looked at the label on the beer when it was passed to me, and, as I always do, I took a big,
long swig of the beer.
Baby vomit, rotten fruit, a graveyard's armpit. All of those things would have been preferable
to what I tasted when I drank that insidiously long sip. It tastes like an apricot orchard in a graveyard
got left to rot in 100 degree weather while goats urinated on the fallen fruit before you guys picked it
up and made beer out of it.
I can still taste it on my tongue, and I drank it three days ago.
Yes, it is that bad.
What (8 votes)
Huh (7 votes)
Umm (4 votes)
Eh (9 votes)
Ahh (24 votes)
52 total votes