Pabst Blue Robot
Well-Known Member
Allow me to lay upon you a cautionary tale, such as it is. You may mark the passage of this truly hateful day as the one on which I've been smitten terribly by the beer gods for the sin of sloth, or perhaps just out of inebriated mischievous glee. You might recall the seemingly boundless ocean of beer that once lurked within patient steel cylinders, tucked away in the cool dark of my garage until called upon. Cylinders solemnly waiting to fulfill their purpose as harbingers of joy. It may rattle the foundation of your very being to learn that these once proud guardians against thirst have been reduced to a paltry sum of tired legionnaires, dwindling in number and lacking in sense of purpose or pride. They occupy a dingy hovel that could be described as desolate by one privy to its former majesty.
How might this have come to pass, you may ask? The will of the beer gods, though cruel, is seldom unjust. We've all heard tale of such instances, in which perhaps this hapless band of of bawdy fellows was simply powerless to resist that fleeting moment of contact with she who may once have known the Grape Mistake. Who among us can truly blame them for flirting briefly with the embrace of the picnic tap? It was for the greater good after all; in the name of pleasing the palate of us simple shepherds of the Saccharomyces. To succumb in such fashion, with no certainty that said tap has been cleansed from the scourge of acetic acid bacteria by the grace of Iodophor, is said to be vile in the eyes of Papazian. I cannot say with any certainty. It is all that I can do to lament the passing of five of our most beloved comrades:
Febtoberfest - 1/4 keg
Weizenbock - 1/3 keg
Chocolate Stout - Full keg
Smoked Porter - Full keg
E.S.B. - Full keg
They are survived by 1.5 kegs of E.S.B., 2 kegs of smoked porter, and two kegs of Apfelwein, for the sake of whom I will continue to brew, in memory of those who gave themselves to the soil this day. We hardly knew ye.
How might this have come to pass, you may ask? The will of the beer gods, though cruel, is seldom unjust. We've all heard tale of such instances, in which perhaps this hapless band of of bawdy fellows was simply powerless to resist that fleeting moment of contact with she who may once have known the Grape Mistake. Who among us can truly blame them for flirting briefly with the embrace of the picnic tap? It was for the greater good after all; in the name of pleasing the palate of us simple shepherds of the Saccharomyces. To succumb in such fashion, with no certainty that said tap has been cleansed from the scourge of acetic acid bacteria by the grace of Iodophor, is said to be vile in the eyes of Papazian. I cannot say with any certainty. It is all that I can do to lament the passing of five of our most beloved comrades:
Febtoberfest - 1/4 keg
Weizenbock - 1/3 keg
Chocolate Stout - Full keg
Smoked Porter - Full keg
E.S.B. - Full keg
They are survived by 1.5 kegs of E.S.B., 2 kegs of smoked porter, and two kegs of Apfelwein, for the sake of whom I will continue to brew, in memory of those who gave themselves to the soil this day. We hardly knew ye.
