Thanks to Covid-19, my team has been moved to nights, so 1.00am Friday morning is now the start of my weekend. Hurray?
To celebrate, I tapped a keg of CAP, or whatever Gordon Strong says we're supposed to call it now. It's 20 percent corn, cereal mashed, bone dry, and belligerently hopped with Cluster. It is a surly, cruel, and mean spirited beer. It gives NEIPAs wedgies and tea bags anything that's seen the inside of a barrel. Were it given the opportunity, it would call deaf children names. It doesn't like you. It doesn't like me.
But I like it.