OMG, I’ve quit so many homebrew clubs because of their unnatural fascination with hops, Hops, HOPS!!! Boil 'em, brew on 'em, back 'em in your taps… HOPSSS!!!
If i wanted to feel like I’ve just been smacked in the face with a bag of fresh grass cuttings, I’m sure I could pay a guy.
One fucking guy was making hops extracts to DROPPER into his Hazy New England IPA so there was a fucking green oil slick on top. I quit on the spot, got up and walked out.
Reference brewing in to US is a lost art. Present a Kölsch or a Maibock in spec and they shit on you because its too sweet, but if you just make it an Imperial with more hops…?
DUDE i just LOVE the hustle and bustle of the big city, it’s so DYNAMIC and makes me feel like i’m in one of my favourite TV SHOWS. you should totally come on down to my studio apartment, it’s got EXPOSED RED BRICK walls and everything, we can crack open a nice hoppy ipa or three and get crazy watching some cartoons on adult swim! and dude, dude, DUDE, we have GOTTA go down to the barcade- listen here, right, it’s a BAR where us ADULTS who do ADULTING can go DRINK. BUT!!! it’s also an ARCADE like when we were kids, so we can play awesome VIDEO GAMES, without dumb kids bothering us. speaking of which megan and i have finally decided to tie the knot- literally -we’re both getting snipped tomorrow at the hospital, that way we can save money to spent more on ourselves and our FURBABIES. i’m fuckin JACKED man, i’m gonna SLAM this craft beer and pop open another one!!!
Urban millennials. It’s barely even ironic, although in my experience the retreat into hedonism and arrested development are coping mechanisms for a world that isn’t even remotely what any of the adults in the 90s promised us it would be. Any outward excitement is simply a mask over a deep ennui.
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