2009 Fall Beer Review: Part 2

Goodness, it’s almost the middle of October already? That is insane and really the only reason it hit me today is the fact that my face is numb from walking downtown tonight. That hasn’t happened since April here. And you know what that means? Fuckin’ snow is just around the corner and I will be bitching and moaning. Just letting you know that ahead of time.

But before I switch gears to winter wonderland I am still full throttle in the celebration of Samhain. So onto a new beer review focusing on one great brew company and a smaller micro. I just love tasting pumpkins, hay rides, campfires, Reese’s Pieces, ghosts and Charlie Brown in an alcoholic beverage. Perhaps I think of this too much.

spatan

This evening I am going to start off with a very popular beer company from the country that made Oktoberfest what it is. The Munich, Germany company, Spatan, has been rocking great beer since (get this) 1397. Holy shit, now that is worth bragging rites. They were making beer when the Spanish Inquisition was going on. You know, no one is prepared for the Inquisition.

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I figured a backdrop of peanut butter M&Ms would suit this nicely. (That’s for you Lacey) To be honest, if this beer didn’t have Oktoberfest on the label, I would never imagine this to be a Fall beer. It has more of a Summer/Spring taste to be honest. The light body and very little aftertaste leaves one wondering, why Oktoberfest? This should be “Spring-enzi Deutch” if I was to name it. Actually, I kind of like that. No one steal that, okay?

I know I hammered on Spatan about it’s lighter body for an Oktoberfest beer but I really like the taste. You can imagine eating bratwurst with this, I am sure. But if you were sitting outside with a lit Jack-o-Lantern, wrapped in a Snuggie and passing out KitKats, this beer wouldn’t hold Halloween weight. I think I may risk skunking the beer and save a few 6 packs for next year’s boat parties. Hotdogs and watermelon would be a treat with this Spatan special.

hoptober

Whoa! Hoptober comes at you with both fists! Let me start out by saying, I love IPA (Indian Pale Ales). There are fireworks and fairy dust that fly every time I take a sip of a great bitter IPA. Hoptober Golden Ale does that like no other. This is the beer you want on chilly evenings listening to Edgar Allen Poe-etry around a campfire.

The company that makes Hoptober (amazing name) is Belgium Brewing Company out of Fort Collins, Colorado. To be honest, as a very novus beer connoisseur, I am not familiar with them. I will say that the label drew attention immediately. See? I’m a novus. Really, I can only speculate that the painting is of a bunch of crazed circus freaks dancing in the nude around a campfire during broad daylight. That’s weird, macabre and strange; all three things I find next to godliness. Extra points, Hoptober!

I believe you have to be an IPA fan to really enjoy this beer. It has a bite, a little bitter and an aftertaste that will require either a cigarette or licking the face of Fran Drescher to alleviate the palate. So Zima drinkers beware, you may be in for a disappointment. But really, if you are a Zima drinker you probably have a life of disappointments anyway. Do they even make that shit anymore?

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Sorry if you are a Zima drinker. I’m not one to judge and that was a pretty mean comment. Seriously though, expand your horizons. 🙂 Where was I? Oh yeah, Hoptober Golden Ale is the winner in my book. If you are fortunate to find this, buy it and drink it while carving something. The season of the dead emanates from the bottle and it inspires…almost anything!

CARVING RANDOM SHIT 2009!!!

If you know me or have been a follower on my blog, Veggiemacabre, then you know I have this weird addiction to Reduced Fat Triscuits. It has become such a staple in my diet that I believe if I were on death row, my last meal probably would include these crackers. Call me crazy but I love these woven wheat crackers so much, I really came close to naming my cat Triscuit. Looks like my first born will have the pleasure of the name instead.

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It turns out these boxes are a pretty good canvas for Jack-o-lantern faces. Way better than the oval and circular objects of the past. The problem is the hollow box can be less protective of the crotch when you are jamming a knife into the flimsy cardboard. Most people would have known that.

So one close call to Rupert and the Diablo Twins and a lap full of cardboard shreds, this is what I have created.

lola trisc

Notice the action-shot fear in my cat’s face when she saw the demonic Triscuit box? Bet she’ll never sit on my laptop keyboard again. Well, actually I am sure she will. Training her is like telling plate tectonics to stop.

Spatan Oktoberfest: B-

I really liked the taste but to me, it does not qualify as a Fall beer. I know these guys have been brewing beer when Columbus’ great grandfather was born and the Surfs were surfing but I just can’t stop thinking of beach balls and cookouts when I drink it. They get a B for their 1397 age and a minus for the Oktober.

Hoptober Golden Ale: A

A solid A for the hoppy IPA that has a little sweetness. The sweetness reminds me of the spices of Fall. I dig that. Plus, the cover art makes my mind go to dark places. And really, isn’t that what where we want our mind to go on the day of the dead?

triscuit jack

I kind of regret telling everyone what I named my manhood. Happy Halloween!

Correction Comment:

“Just a comment to correct a few inaccuracies. There is no such thing as an “Oktoberfest” beer as Oktoberfest is not a celebration of beer, but rather a celebration of Bavarian culture. Bavarian beer is traditionally very light. I will also add, since almost no one seems to know this, Oktoberfest takes place at the end of September, running until very early October.

The beer is called Spaten, not Spatan. It takes it’s name from the Spaten-Franziskaner-Bräu, which makes the excellent hefeweizen bier Franziskaner.

Anyways, just a comment from a German who does not like fallacies about their culture.”

Thanks for setting me straight. I will do a Polka Dance of Apology.

Auto-Text Disaster: Part 2

It is kind odd how I rely on non-verbal communication for over 90% of my everyday conversations. I suppose it is the “get to the point” way that attracts me to use it more often than making a personal connection. I just recently blogged about how I hate texting during dinner and personified a few people into one and ended up hurting someone I didn’t mean to. I feel very bad about that and I am sorry. But this isn’t a post about taking words back. This is my rant on auto texting because, once again, I can’t comprehend how iPhone replaces misspelled words with…embarrasing ones.

I balance work, the hospital and school by a thread. A thin, old and frayed thread. Any wavering and it will break leaving me in a state of utter shit. So I balance my time as best as possible and even though my social life is a joke, I can still get out to enjoy a few things. Like the dart league at work.

This is a pretty good way of having the employees and bosses get together for a friendly night of drinking and team cohesion. Every Thursday night we get together to toss darts and laugh about office bullshit that just hours before, was not very funny at all. But this week I have been working on a project that has me traveling so I needed to find a substitute  for myself. I text the only sales girl we have, Mandy.

Back story: Mandy is a pretty tough girl but she is the only girl we have in the sales side of the office. She has to compete with ego-driven guys on a constant basis and I suppose that makes her that much harder of a worker. I have a high degree of respect for her. That’s why this next part really bothers me.

Before I was hired, she was in a meeting with all the said sales guys and they were ribbing her and making her laugh hysterically. So much so, she farted. I try to keep this site here clean of low-brow humor but that is what happened. From then on she has been teased and it has become a real sore spot for her. I pretend to know nothing about it.  Until this…

I texted her to see if she wanted to throw darts. Why darts was auto replaced with this I have no idea but I firmly believe, this could only happen to me.

“Hey Mandy, want to do me a favor?”

“Hi Will! What can I do?’

“You want to throw farts?”

“What?”

“Farts”

Will, not you too. That’s not cool.”

(Then I become confused and reread my message.)

“Oh! Sorry, I meant darts. My phone messed up”

Ha Ha I am sure. I can’t. I will see you on wed.”

“Seriously, I meant darts. I am not making fun! I am so sorry. It really is my phone!”

“Will, it’s fine. Are you with Dave?”

(Dave is the worst at rubbing her the wrong way)

“No, I am in Moscow! I really need a sub and wanted to ask you.”

“I will see you wed.”

I am so pissed at myself right now. For one, how did I not catch that? Two, how in heaven did it auto “fart” to the one person that could take offense to that? Is my karma that bad? I don’t know how to regain repor.with this girl but I suppose letting the issue go would be the best bet. Fuck my life.

I think this was worse than the last time.

Edit: You know, now that I think about it, F and D are pretty close to eachother. Fuck my life.

Cat On Back; Bee Died

So, I haven’t gotten much better. Just maintaining the same, really. But I am at home taking a little break from the everyday insanity and getting to know the cat a little better. So that is good. Did you know she wasn’t a fan of Neil Diamond? The nerve! But you know, it’s not like I can hate her for that. She’s too cute.

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Sorry for the sick face.

This is her new favorite place to sit. Unfortunately, it takes claws to get up there. And God help me if she spots something worth tearing off after. Like a bee this afternoon. It’s 41 outside and a bee showed up. Mother!

catonback
Ow! Ow! Ow!

This is a real action shot that I took at the precise moment the cat saw the bee. Notice my forward leaning and wincing posture as she dug her claws in my shoulder, readying to pounce? Yeah, I bleed.

deadbee

Long story short, the bee died and the cat tried to eat it. Pretty good story, huh? This is what Theraflu will do to you. Make you blog about absolutely nothing.

Really, the point of this post is to share that my first article was posted on Review The World.com. If you care to read it just click FizzGig and leave Brian some love on his blog. He’s going to be a papa!

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I’m In A Mood

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Most of my life I have been in a pretty good mood. I always try to see the bright side of life and even in times of strife, there is usually a tinge of happiness to be found. Call it optimism or call it stupidity, I call it a survival mechanism. But even us “glass half full of beer” people can have moments of “fuck my life”. (That’s my new exclamation. Like it?) Here are some resent MRAAHHH’s!

I love NPR. For those who don’t know what NPR is, it stands for News…ahem…National Public Radio and most liberal arts universities have a relay for it on their campus. I particularly enjoy the evening program, “All Things Considered” which along with news, they have stories on topics rarely discussed in the crap we call news on TV. You can be driving in the most desolate areas of the country but in mind, you are in a hospital far off in the Congo or a kitchen in south Bronx listening to a 15 year old girl who raises all her siblings in the midst of gang violence. This program allows us to understand what many choose not to.

But there is a segment that makes me want to jerk the wheel into a goddamn bridge abutment. It is when they allow authors and poets to read their own work. People who write shouldn’t be allowed to read their stuff, especially those who All Things Consider’s, well, consider. You wouldn’t want Stephen King narrating his stories, would you? He’s as close to a human beaver as it comes.

A particular poet/reader had me fidgeting like a day three meth-trip. She spoke so softly I had the radio volume turned all the way up as she over enunciates every single word. I could only liken this to a woman trying to teach a deaf person to read lips by repeating “EGG! MC! MUF FFFF FFF IN!” This made my patients dip so low I took a huge swig of my boiling coffee, completely forgetting I just bought it and still, as I type, I taste only cardboard. Oh! I forgot, you could hear her nose whistle come through loud and clear. Fuck my life!

I know this is petty but still, given the choice between listen to a smug poet read her work from the next room of a recording booth or having a fat guy eat an apple out of anger over a megaphone in a small bathroom, I would choose the latter.

Text messaging is a great invention. Those of you who read this and actually know me in “real life” know that I abuse texting. To me, it is to the point and it leaves out opportunities to be stuck in a conversation about how someone’s dog ate blueberries from the kitchen table and shit a Jackson Pollock on the living room carpet. But there also is a time and place.

Recently I went out to dinner with a friend. She’s a good person but she is also one of those people who have little regard for other people. I guess everything has come easy to her and it doesn’t occur to her that there are other people on the planet. I tolerate her.

Well, about halfway through dinner she gets into a texting battle that lasts the rest of the meal. My phone went off at least six times but I would never think of that disruption at dinner. She just didn’t get that when two people are at dinner and one is on the phone, that makes the other feel bad. And look bad. By the time she was done I had drunk two shots, had three beers and spelled “suck my ass” in peas upside down on my plate of Pad Tai. Like I said, she can’t help being who she is. That’s why I tolerate her.

Nonverbal facial gestures with eyebrows from someone I don’t know makes me want to reply with nonverbal hand gestures with my middle fingers. I was next in line at the bagel shop and when it was my turn the tattooed, pierced, blue haired dude gave me an eyebrow gesture as if to say, “You are next retard”. I didn’t thank him after the transaction. Showed him. Wait a minute…he didn’t thank me!

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Got my car totally fixed! But in the waiting room I had to watch “The View” on their TV. Don’t even get me started and don’t get me wrong, I am all about women and 100% equality but this show actually removed very important brain cells. When the mechanic was finished he asked for a form of payment and I responded, “Yes. Have some.”

If this makes some people angry, I am sorry. I just lied to you. I’m not and I don’t care. Whoopie needed to stay in the 1980’s. I am still disappointed in Ted Danson because that’s gross, man. That officially killed Cheers.

It just hit me that I am a 31 year old guy, living by myself with a cat in Idaho. I am Jon Arbuckle. Fuck my life.

*Back on track with the Fall theme tomorrow folks! I’ll be in a better mood by then. ;)*

Target Gets A Pass

So, I was a little harsh on Target for their noticably “tarty to the party” Halloween display but they actually came through quite well. I managed to check all the reviewable items off the list and above all, I did so in a chicken suit. I am not lying.

chicken suit

To be honest, the suit was not made for a 6 foot fellow but rather a 5’10” one so I could not completely lift my head or see passed the beak. But that has never stopped me before. I am not sure on the legs though.

cat hat

And wouldn’t you know it? I just got a kitten and now we can have matching costumes this year! Wait a minute. I think I just made a statement about the cat and I having matching costumes. What the hell is wrong with me? I need to get out more.

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Yeah, I didn’t think she would have gone for it anyway.

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