Best (and worst) beers you've ever had

[AUDub 11,147]

34 minutes ago, Tiger Refuge said:

I'm headed to the beach tomorrow. I think a rum drink will happen.

Heading down Saturday. Lambics on the seawall, here I come. 

[ShocksMyBrain 9,363]

Mezcal buddy basically got laughed out of Atlanta asking for Tropicalia. But he did acquire some Athena for me and it's delicious. Pardon the dirty glass.

[ShocksMyBrain 9,363]

Annnd Mezcal buddy vomited in our elephant leaves, so SMB wife is taking him home(because I'm pretty hammered as well). And now I have to wake up super early to take his car to him on the one day I get to sleep in so he can get to work. 

The things we do. 

[AUDub 11,147]

45 minutes ago, ShocksMyBrain said:

Annnd Mezcal buddy vomited in our elephant leaves, so SMB wife is taking him home(because I'm pretty hammered as well). And now I have to wake up super early to take his car to him on the one day I get to sleep in so he can get to work. 

The things we do. 

Proud to say I haven't been "throwing up" drunk in quite a while. Come close a few times the last few years drinking my sorrows away after losses though. 

[ShocksMyBrain 9,363]

1 hour ago, Bigbens42 said:

Proud to say I haven't been "throwing up" drunk in quite a while. Come close a few times the last few years drinking my sorrows away after losses though. 

I'm with you there. I've also gotten close, but managed to maintain. Usually comes when I've had plenty of brews and decide to smoke a cigarette. 

[Barnacle 9,064]

I'm not proud of this, but I turned 30 on Saturday, and my wife threw a party for me at our place with all of our friends. Wife makes some mean margaritas. Starting out on those was my first mistake. A handful of friends bought me whiskey, and naturally, we opened a few of those bottles. Then beer. Then white wine????? Cue Karaoke to Toto's Africa and a late night dance party. Somewhere around Toto and the white wine, I'm pretty sure I decided I had enough and passed out on my bed. 

I woke up at 3 am and projectile vomited off the side of my bed. It wasn't pretty guys. 

Actually, let's keep going with this - only because this is the second time in my life that this has happened, and the first time was far, far worse. I should probably create a throwaway, but to hell with it. I was probably 22ish at the time this happened. Senior year at Ole Miss. I'm back in Huntsville with some good friends in town for some event that I can't remember. After going out one night we headed over to another friend's house. We'll call him Brian. His parents were out of town. They have a pool. We were entertaining a group of girls - it was the natural choice.

Also natural because Brian's father is a wine collector. I mean, a really, really big wine collector. He converted their entire basement into a wine cellar. I can't estimate how many bottles of wine he has down there, but it's well into the thousands. Floor to ceiling shelves line every square foot of wall space. Its incredible. So, Brian invited everyone down into the cellar so he could impress the girls. His sister had just been married, and there was still a lot of the wine left over from her wedding down there. Knowing that he could open up some of those bottles without getting himself into trouble, we all sat down there for a couple hours and drank wine. 

One of our other good friends, call him "Jim" and I started to admire a shelf of "Cain Five." At the time, I didn't know anything about wine or how much these bottles were worth. I know now that they sell for around $100.00 in their current vintage. There's no telling which bottles were in the cellar. In any event, after about an hour of pleading, we were told in no uncertain terms that we "can not open a bottle of Cain Five." At this time, the girls want to go swim. Jim and I are both seriously dating girls who would eventually become our wives, who were also not present. We smartly* elected not to swim. Long story short, we opened a bottle of Cain Five and giggled our dumb asses off. Great wine, by the way. 

Less than 24 hours later, I'll be on the phone with Brian's parents (who were in Europe) apologizing. Except, I wasn't apologizing for the wine - well not exactly. After the Cain Five and some other bottle that had already been opened - God knows for how long before we drank it - I stumbled upstairs and got into one of their guest beds. At this point I've blacked out. I only know this by deduction. 

The next conscious memory that I have is of me, standing in the guest room butt-ass-naked, staring at the large crimson colored stain on the bed's quilt, and being yelled at by Brian. Obviously, I had passed out, woken up, puked red wine EVERYWHERE, taken all of my clothes off, and made enough noise for someone to come see what was the matter. BUT, at that point in time, and because I could not remember throwing up, I was actually trying to deny that it was me. I was convinced that someone else did the deed, despite my wine soaked clothes laying in a pile in the bathroom and my teeth being the color of Barney the dinosaur. 

I did my best that night to clean things up. The next morning, Brian mistakenly convinces me that "everything was going to be fine. My parents have a house cleaner who will be here in a couple of hours - just leave the quilt in the laundry room. She'll take care of it." Okay. Let's go fishing, right!? WRONG. 

Another two hours go by. Now we're on a boat in the middle of the Tennessee River trying to remedy our hangovers. Brian's mom calls. She's in London. She's spoken to the house cleaner. Someone "spilled wine all over my grandmother's quilt." That's right. Family heirloom. Priceless. This is not a good situation for Barnacle. She starts asking him who did it. He denies, denies and denies some more, until she tells him to stop bullshi**ing her. Then he says, "you don't know him" and she hangs up the phone in a rage. 

The problem is. She did know me. In fact, she knew me very well. This is one of my best friends, and I've spent about as much time with his family as I have my own. Now, I'm feeling horrible.  When we got off the river I called her up and told her it was me. She very calmly, and somewhat coldly thanked me for apologizing, and told me goodbye.

It took a solid year before I had the guts to show up at their house again. Miraculously, the quilt was cleaned, and is still on that bed today. 

[ShocksMyBrain 9,363]

20 minutes ago, Barnacle said:

I'm not proud of this, but I turned 30 on Saturday, and my wife threw a party for me at our place with all of our friends. Wife makes some mean margaritas. Starting out on those was my first mistake. A handful of friends bought me whiskey, and naturally, we opened a few of those bottles. Then beer. Then white wine????? Cue Karaoke toToto's Africa and a late night dance party. Somewhere between Toto and the white wine, I'm pretty sure I decided I had enough and passed out on my bed.

I woke up at 3 am and projectile vomited off the side of my bed. It wasn't pretty guys. 

Better off that side than your wife's. Happy bday. 

[Barnacle 9,064]

edited my above post to add another one of my least proud moments.

[AUld fAUx@ 2,584]

Afraid the best I can offer here involves the plain-old (3:2:1) Mr. Boston's recipe. Served it at a taco and marguerita brunch (back when I was in Auburn) and I apparently convinced 5 of my (now) wife's nurses to skinny-dip in a cattle pond in broad daylight.

[AUld fAUx@ 2,584]

Humble apologies for the parable tone of this post. I have, however, oft opined about seasonal factors in my tastes that are relevant to judgments I present in this thread. There can be more short-term, situational factors as well.

On a (yet another, needful, dammit) trip back to T’loosa, I noticed a faint, high-pitched whine emanating (based on its dependence of applied torque) from somewhere in the drive train of my old (~250k-mi.) pickup. In transit through M’gomery, the volume of that whine increased, and the pitch steadily decreased, to the point that the audible effect was like unto the ambience of a nearby cement mixer ½-filled with scrap metal.

I found my self, for most of this past week, in a true beer wasteland, without mechanical transportation while my wore-out rear end was surgically replaced. The strip-mall district of Prattville, AL, is largely populated with fast-food (no beer) establishments and gas stations (beer inventories largely limited to Bud and Natural Light, though various malt-liquor beverages were also present in some abundance).  Two days pioneering this wasteland finally revealed a rather mundane “wings” place that also served PBR on tap. Once I found it (the straight-line “trek” was barely over ½ mile, but the landscape was decidedly unfriendly to pedestrians), I had my salvation.

I’ve often considered PBR a competent “go-to.”  I’ve never, in any way shape, or form, considered it any kind of “best.” For a coupl’a days, however, it was damn-near transcendental.

[AUld fAUx@ 2,584]

13 minutes ago, Barnacle said:

edited my above post to add another one of my least proud moments.

Starting to appreciate this new system. I can like the messaging and express sadness about the message itself.

[augolf1716 21,109]

1 hour ago, Barnacle said:

I'm not proud of this, but I turned 30 on Saturday, and my wife threw a party for me at our place with all of our friends. Wife makes some mean margaritas. Starting out on those was my first mistake. A handful of friends bought me whiskey, and naturally, we opened a few of those bottles. Then beer. Then white wine????? Cue Karaoke to Toto's Africa and a late night dance party. Somewhere around Toto and the white wine, I'm pretty sure I decided I had enough and passed out on my bed. 

I woke up at 3 am and projectile vomited off the side of my bed. It wasn't pretty guys. 

Actually, let's keep going with this - only because this is the second time in my life that this has happened, and the first time was far, far worse. I should probably create a throwaway, but to hell with it. I was probably 22ish at the time this happened. Senior year at Ole Miss. I'm back in Huntsville with some good friends in town for some event that I can't remember. After going out one night we headed over to another friend's house. We'll call him Brian. His parents were out of town. They have a pool. We were entertaining a group of girls - it was the natural choice.

Also natural because Brian's father is a wine collector. I mean, a really, really big wine collector. He converted their entire basement into a wine cellar. I can't estimate how many bottles of wine he has down there, but it's well into the thousands. Floor to ceiling shelves line every square foot of wall space. Its incredible. So, Brian invited everyone down into the cellar so he could impress the girls. His sister had just been married, and there was still a lot of the wine left over from her wedding down there. Knowing that he could open up some of those bottles without getting himself into trouble, we all sat down there for a couple hours and drank wine. 

One of our other good friends, call him "Jim" and I started to admire a shelf of "Cain Five." At the time, I didn't know anything about wine or how much these bottles were worth. I know now that they sell for around $100.00 in their current vintage. There's no telling which bottles were in the cellar. In any event, after about an hour of pleading, we were told in no uncertain terms that we "can not open a bottle of Cain Five." At this time, the girls want to go swim. Jim and I are both seriously dating girls who would eventually become our wives, who were also not present. We smartly* elected not to swim. Long story short, we opened a bottle of Cain Five and giggled our dumb asses off. Great wine, by the way. 

Less than 24 hours later, I'll be on the phone with Brian's parents (who were in Europe) apologizing. Except, I wasn't apologizing for the wine - well not exactly. After the Cain Five and some other bottle that had already been opened - God knows for how long before we drank it - I stumbled upstairs and got into one of their guest beds. At this point I've blacked out. I only know this by deduction. 

The next conscious memory that I have is of me, standing in the guest room butt-ass-naked, staring at the large crimson colored stain on the bed's quilt, and being yelled at by Brian. Obviously, I had passed out, woken up, puked red wine EVERYWHERE, taken all of my clothes off, and made enough noise for someone to come see what was the matter. BUT, at that point in time, and because I could not remember throwing up, I was actually trying to deny that it was me. I was convinced that someone else did the deed, despite my wine soaked clothes laying in a pile in the bathroom and my teeth being the color of Barney the dinosaur. 

I did my best that night to clean things up. The next morning, Brian mistakenly convinces me that "everything was going to be fine. My parents have a house cleaner who will be here in a couple of hours - just leave the quilt in the laundry room. She'll take care of it." Okay. Let's go fishing, right!? WRONG. 

Another two hours go by. Now we're on a boat in the middle of the Tennessee River trying to remedy our hangovers. Brian's mom calls. She's in London. She's spoken to the house cleaner. Someone "spilled wine all over my grandmother's quilt." That's right. Family heirloom. Priceless. This is not a good situation for Barnacle. She starts asking him who did it. He denies, denies and denies some more, until she tells him to stop bullshi**ing her. Then he says, "you don't know him" and she hangs up the phone in a rage. 

The problem is. She did know me. In fact, she knew me very well. This is one of my best friends, and I've spent about as much time with his family as I have my own. Now, I'm feeling horrible.  When we got off the river I called her up and told her it was me. She very calmly, and somewhat coldly thanked me for apologizing, and told me goodbye.

It took a solid year before I had the guts to show up at their house again. Miraculously, the quilt was cleaned, and is still on that bed today. 

I am so proud of you for telling us those wonderful drinking story's.............................................but hells bells throwing up in bed you need your ass whipped also your lucky you did not inhale your own puke then we're talking big problems. 

On a side not those are two funny ass story's

Only frickin 30 good god almighty your a baby compared to me and good choice on your Karaoke song. I've got some golf story's concerning the song.

 

 

[Barnacle 9,064]

2 hours ago, AUld fAUx@ said:

Afraid the best I can offer here involves the plain-old (3:2:1) Mr. Boston's recipe. Served it at a taco and marguerita brunch (back when I was in Auburn) and I apparently convinced 5 of my (now) wife's nurses to skinny-dip in a cattle pond in broad daylight.

Say no more!  extra points for a taco and margarita "brunch"

[AUDub 11,147]

On 7/18/2017 at 9:18 PM, ShocksMyBrain said:

Rum Chata tastes exactly like the milk from a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It should be illegal. 

In PCB and I bought a 12 pack of mini cups to add to coffee. Drank one straight just to compare. Tastes just like the Chila to me.  

[ShocksMyBrain 9,363]

Just now, Bigbens42 said:

In PCB and I bought a 12 pack of mini cups to add to coffee. Drank one straight just to compare. Tastes just like the Chila to me.  

Best thing about those is you can drink them in the office and no one will know the wiser. 

[AUDub 11,147]

1015 and I'm already three Goin' Coastals and a shot of rumchata down and nursing a healthy buzz. Man I love the beach. 

[McLoofus 35,182]

This is a killer Bloody Mary recipe. It's the only one I'll make. It does require Clamato, though:

-Fill a 16 oz Solo cup 3/4 full of ice, add the ingredients in order
-4 good shakes of dried dill
-A couple dashes of salt and pepper
-4 good shakes of Old Bay
-A dash of hot sauce
-4 dashes of worchestershire
- 1 1/2-2 oz vodka
-Juice of half a lemon
-Fill it the rest of the way up with Clamato and garnish with a pickled okra, green bean or asparagus

Start with that and tweak it to your liking. 
 

[Tiger Refuge 6,662]

Been waiting on this for a while. Report coming tomorrow.

[AUld fAUx@ 2,584]

Southern Tier 2XIPA (surprisingly out of NY?), blind, never-heard-of-them tasting to celebrate National IPA Day. Floral as can be (reminder, smoker here). So floral, in fact, hard to figure out a compatible pairing (oriental?, maybe the heavy lemon-grass of some Thai?). Solid #3 (TR scale) as a drink-alone, 8.2%, and reasonably priced, but I do have local access to others, just as good, that fit better into my summer days.

https://www.daysoftheyear.com/days/india-pale-ale-day/

 

[alexava 6,973]

Ok folks I got heavily buzzed Friday night.  And Barnacle I am a bit older than you 44, it's been probably 10 years since I blowed groceries but I managed it at least two dozen times prior to that. I don't get bent much these days especially out on the town like Friday. 

I have skipped most of this thread as I am not an exploratory drinker. But the group I was in started early at Straight to Ale. Huntsville.... I would assume that place has been mentioned here? I was informed I couldn't get a coors light or mich . Ultra so I chose one one the list. Monkeys Uncle..... how I didn't barf instantly is a mystery... more to come 

as promised....edit

I gave the Monkey beer a few sips and hoped to get it down whether i enjoyed it or not, just to be bold. I swear i think i could go through all the cleaners under my kitchen sink or chemicals and solvents in my garage and not find a worse taste. so i asked the waiter kindly for something else milder. I chose something with "cider" in the name. One of the ladies at our table(of about 30) this is my wife's work group, drank one. While i waited on this i drank my wife's lemon drop martini to try to erase this chemical burn from my mouth. And i don't do liquor especially vodka, but needed to neutralize the taste. Hell it tasted like a can of Country Time Lemonade. The cider came and was in the top ten of the worst things i had ever drank but i finished the damn thing so i wouldn't have to worry about getting grabbed by donald trump. We got a pizza because the wife was starving and didn't want to drink on an empty stomach. i couldn't even taste the pizza. we finally left and went to another bar/grill where i could get in my zone. Then went bar bouncing.  Its not often we get a night out like that and also have a babysitter lined up. So we partied like we did 20+ years ago. I was feeling good but i don't need to close down bars anymore. I didn't barf but felt like hell all day Saturday. 

[AuburnSoldier 117]

I haven't puked since the night of the Iron Bowl in '06. We ran out of beer and raided my buddy's liquor cabinet. 

My wife didn't like me drinking liquor, so we were putting rum and whiskey in beer bottles. She was none-the-wiser until I started to stagger and slur. 

After about 36 ounces of liquor, she took me home and made me sleep on the porch. I remember waking up and seeing a semi-frozen pool of vomit in the flower bed. 

On another note, Sierra Nevada's 2017 Oktoberfest is phenomenal. I grabbed a sixer this afternoon and it's gone. I hope I don't hurl. 

[Tiger Refuge 6,662]

Enjoyed the hell out of a couple Grace and Grit DIPAs this weekend. I am tired of fighting with photo hosting sites. First, photobucket kicks me to the curb then imgur says I have to "slow down". So, screw it. 

 

The beer looked great and tasted even better. 

 

Suck it, Trebek.

[AUld fAUx@ 2,584]

20 hours ago, alexava said:

Ok folks I got heavily buzzed Friday night.  And Barnacle I am a bit older than you 44, it's been probably 10 years since I blowed groceries but I managed it at least two dozen times prior to that. I don't get bent much these days especially out on the town like Friday. 

I have skipped most of this thread as I am not an exploratory drinker. But the group I was in started early at Straight to Ale. Huntsville.... I would assume that place has been mentioned here? I was informed I couldn't get a coors light or mich . Ultra so I chose one one the list. Monkeys Uncle..... how I didn't barf instantly is a mystery... more to come 

Breathless with anticip......

[McLoofus 35,182]

Man, this thread picks me up sometimes. 

Lost Abbey Angel's Share last night. Aw man. Awwww maaaaaan. 

[AUld fAUx@ 2,584]

1 hour ago, Tiger Refuge said:

Enjoyed the hell out of a couple Grace and Grit DIPAs this weekend. I am tired of fighting with photo hosting sites. First, photobucket kicks me to the curb then imgur says I have to "slow down". So, screw it. 

 

The beer looked great and tasted even better. 

 

Suck it, Trebek.

As an aside,

when our family gets together for trivia at Fairhope Brewery, we go by Shuck it, Trebek.