WARNING!

DO NOT DRINK WESTCOTT BAY ORCHARDS VINTAGE CIDER. I REPEAT, DO NOT DRINK WESTCOTT BAY ORCHARDS VINTAGE CIDER!

So, I get home from work tonight. I have the house to myself. I'm looking forward to sitting down and writing a quick entry about my last couple of beers before plopping down in front of Craig Royale. My fridge is abundant with bottled libations from which I select the only cider I've had since begining this endeavor.

.

I take a sip. Sour, winey, flat. Maybe it's supposed to taste like that. I take another sip, this time straining my taste buds for any redeeming qualities. Scanning. Scanning.

Nope. None. Not a single enjoyable aspect to this putrid swill. Even the label disgusts me - pure groovy, hippy drivel. What is that? An eagle flying into the sunset drawn up in pastels? Jesus. That was $6 I didn't mind pouring down the drain. Don't say you haven't been warned. Unfuckingpotable.

I wish I could go back in time to Monday night when I had a delight bottle of MacTarnahan's Amber Ale. She was delightful. Refreshing, satisfying. Nothing quirky about her, just a good drinkable beer. This brewery also made (but sadly retired) Bourbon Cask Aged Blackwatch Cream Porter. Trout are you taking note? I wonder if Hales got MacTarnahan's retired bourbon barrels?

As you know from Dicko, Tuesday's beer was a refreshing and serviceable Shiner Bock. The kind of beer that makes you want to have another and another and another...

So, as I sit here recovering from the the devil's urine I tasted just moments ago, I am finding comfort in a Golden Pheasant. I like it. I haven't tasted Grolsch in years but it reminds of that for some reason. Grolsch and pot stems. The Golden Pheasant has a definite cannabis quality. Right on.

Oh wait, as it warms, it doesn't taste nearly as good. Oh well, I guess tonight's just not my night.

Now, where'd I put my pipe?