Deep Thoughts #339

Of course, all you Republicans are uninformed inbred shit. Go back to the barnyard and die before you pox the educated with your hell spawn.

Deep Thoughts #338

You aren’t a real American…you took steroids and fucked on tape…you are not at all American…you fucking Republican piece of uninformed shit.

Deep Thoughts #337

Hulk Hogan raped his own legacy when he endorsed Adolf Trump. Hogan was not a “Real American.” He was a puppet, like all modern Republicans.

Cinema Observations #7

A woman approached the concession stand and said, “Two for Batman.” The schlep with her said, “Superman.” She looked back and said, “Superman, Batman, they’re all the same.” The comic book geek in me died a little, but I did not decapitate her, even though she richly deserved it.

Deep Thoughts #336

Donald…go fuck yourself. J.D….go fuck yourself. Samuel, Clarence, Amy, Neil, Brett, and John…go fuck each other and then go fuck yourselves.

617. New Belgium Brewing Company (Fort Collins, CO) - Grape Fizz Ale

“Grape Fizz Ale first hits you with a pop of juicy grape candy aroma that will transport you straight to those nostalgic purple sodas from back in the day. Golden limes (aka Calamansi fruit) and golden sour ale provide a light tartness that’s balanced by sweet Concord grape juice for a crisp, crushable, effervescent finish and 5% ABV.”

Also, the can says that it’s colored with fruits and vegetables. This was part of a variety 12-pack that I picked up because I wanted to try something that isn’t an IPA for a change. The first one, out of the can, was too tart; but the second one, poured into a mug, was a little better. It’s still too tart, but maybe it can breathe a little more in a mug. I don’t know. I appreciate what they’re going for, but they don’t quite get there; the expression “sour grapes” is an expression for a reason. I’m not sure there’s a good way to go here. You want something like this to be crushable, but you also need it to lean more toward the sweet than the sour. In order to balance that sweetness, you need to raise the ABV; and if I were going to err in one direction or the other, that would be the way I’d go. A less sour version of this in the 7-8% ABV range would be spectacular.

Deep Thoughts #335

Now, who would guess that a right-wing misogynist with Donald Trump’s dick in his mouth would be a liar? Only any primate with half a brain.

Deep Thoughts #334

If the talking abortion and failed businessman you Retardlicans voted for told a story that wasn’t fictional—that would be some actual news.

Cinema Observations #6

The first group through the gates today was an asshole and the thirteen chimps he was pretending to supervise. He bought each of them a large popcorn and a large ICEE. Did they make an unholy fucking mess? Of course they did. That’s how inbreeds learn to Make America Great Again.

Deep Thoughts #333b

No, this isn’t a problem in the U.S. But Republicans will be all over it. They criminalize anything that isn’t blonde, blue-eyed, and Aryan.

Deep Thoughts #333a

Just have Adolf Trump threaten to deport screwworms—or increase their tariffs. That’s how unqualified Republicans attempt to solve problems.

615. New Holland Brewing Co. (Holland, MI) - The Poet

“Oats bring a creaminess and soft mouthfeel to the roast malt character in our classic oatmeal stout. The Poet is a perfect representation of balance and one of America’s leading oatmeal stouts.”

Yes, and when you have one of those days that makes you feel like you can do anything, you might, the night before on the way home from The Old Juke Joint, have bought a variety 12-pack of the same beers you took to the park for your son’s high school graduation party last month; and The Poet might have been the first one you opened when you went upstairs to work a little bit just now. It’s all a coincidence so far, but then you go back into the Scrivener project that contains a bunch of poems you have been working on; and you look at the most recent one, which also makes reference to the graduation party (and all that fancy sausage you bought at Claus’); and that’s the one you wanted to work on, because when you have good days like this you feel charitable, and expansive. It’s no longer a coincidence, of course, that this post is more of a prose poem than it is a blog post about beer. You don’t know exactly what turns prose into poetry, but sometimes poems speak to you; and sometimes it’s fun to try and write them. Sometimes an oatmeal stout is better than an IPA; this is one of those days.