Today in terrible beverage names

I would have assumed that Nipples Are Nipples would be a milk stout, but apparently it’s a hard lemonade.

Also, interesting that Consent Can’t Come After You Do Hard Cider is their highest alcohol product.

Also also, the women involved in this look exactly like I expected.

I guess I’ll try their Charging Money for Tampons is Period Shaming by the Patriarchy Red Ale when it hits the states, though.

Celebrity Deathwatch 2015 #0132

Fred Eckhardt, 89, beer writer.

Fucks given: lots and lots.  I’m totally bummed by this.

Once about 12 years ago* I was at the Portland Spring Beer Fest.  Fred was there, wandering around with his spiked helmet, and the Hair of the Dog booth was pouring Fred.  I really tried to get a sample of Fred and then find Fred so I could get a picture with both, but I couldn’t make it happen.

* back when the Portland Spring Beer Fest was good.

Review: Beer Wars

A 2009 documentary on the beer industry, made by some woman who is allergic to alcohol but used to be the CEO of Mike’s Hard Lemonade.

Mostly they’re talking to the guy who started Dogfish Head (which is going through a big expansion at the time of filming) and some woman who used to work for Sam Adams, then went out and started her own company (which is basically a one-trick pony, a contract-brewed beer with caffeine).

Not great, as it focuses on two companies, one of which is not really a craft-brewer. But, I have to say I do enjoy the fact that as it goes on, it becomes more and more of a big fuck you to Anheuser-Busch.

Random slice of life update

Last week: I was on call so could not drink. On call at my current employment is horrible; as we are an extremely small company without a 24/7 NOC*, so alerts are sent as text messages to the on-call engineer’s phone. Unacknowledged alerts then proceed to the backup on-call engineer’s phone, then to everyone’s phone. It ends up being an extra 20 hours or so of work, spread out enough so that you can never get more than about 2 hours of sleep in one sitting. Laying. Whatever.

Meanwhile, Mrs. KPTL’s mother had some sort of health issues that required her to stay at our house over the weekend, so I’ve slept in an air mattress in my office the last few nights. Which actually kind of works out, what with being on call and all.

Tonight, however, I can drink and Mrs. KPTL is out of town on important business. Mr. KPTL Jr. and I went to a local establishment where I can enjoy some fine beers and walk home. During our meal I listened to the mother at the table next to us lecture her young daughter at length on the importance of not smoking port and/or having sex.

As a side note, this particular establishment used to have a hot waitress, who looked like a cross between Eliza Dushku and … that other actress. My mind is drawing a blank right now – people tend to think she’s hot, but I keep seeing her as the less-hot chick on That 70’s Show, the tall redhead being much hotter. But still not as hot as Eliza Dushku.

Back to waitresses, usually we get the waitress who has the haircut of a teenage boy in 1985 who is a fan of the “new wave” music, however per the restaurant’s occasional “meet our random employee” feature on their facebook page, she may currently be on her honeymoon after getting married to a guy(!). So, some other random waitress, neither hot nor a dike in a sham marriage.

Anyways, this story has no real ending or point, other than to say hooray, I can drink again.

* Network Operations Center, which is either a team of low-level engineers who do basic troubleshooting or a fucktarded bunch of helpdesk drones, depending on the company. My last company saw the former morph into the latter over the course of several years. Not that all of the current NOC denizens are real live fucktards, mind you – some of them date to the days of actual troubleshooting – it’s just that they have been stripped of all access privileges, and can no longer do anything other than push power/reset buttons and tell people to send a traceroute.

Happy Fuck 2012 Night

I had to work today so I’m starting my drinking kind of late.

I’ve got a bunch of large bottles of beer in the fridge, still wrapped in paper bags from the store, and will be pulling things out at random and consuming them throughout the evening. Meanwhile Mrs. KPTL and her parents will be watching kids movies until Master KPTL Jr. falls asleep, at which point my MiL will probably put on QVC or some shit like that.

Anyways, the important thing is I’ll be drinking. I’m just finishing up a 22 of Pike Brewing Auld Acquaintance Hoppy Holiday Ale.

Update: now drinking something called Antigoon. May need to take this to Defcon.


Update 2: now drinking some Hangar 24 Local Fields Warmer (from Redlands, California, “Inland Empire” shithole and hometown of founding members of Kevorkian Death Cycle and BOL). Strong Ale brewed with maple syrup, spruce, and cinnamon.

BTW, I would like to mention that Hanger 24 is suspiciously suddenly “big” – I never heard of them a year ago, now they appear to be everywhere in large quantities. They also had a giant truck at the recent winter beer festival I attended (the “OC Brew Ho Ho”), rivaling the giant tent by Stone. Odd.

Update 3: Chatoe Rogue First Growth 19 Original Colonies Mead (brewed with Jasmine). Brewed using 5 ingredients: Rogue Hopyard Honey, Wild Flower Honey, Jasmine Silver Tip Green Tea Leaves, Champagne Yeast & Free Range Coastal Water. According to the bottle. Tastes like honey minus the sweetness.

Update 4: the young Master KPTL is out, and we’re watching whatever the fuck crap people have put on. Meanwhile, I am finally getting around to reading Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain.

Vegetarians, and their Hezbollah-like splinter-faction, the vegans, are a persistent irritant to any chef worth a damn. To me, life without veal stock, pork fat, sausage, organ meat, demi-glace, or even stinky cheese is a life not worth living. Vegetarians are the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit, an affront to all I stand for, the pure enjoyment of food.

Update 5: Everyone but me has gone to bed. The Twilight Zone Marathon is on, but I just barely missed To Serve Man, Nightmare at 20,000 Feet, and Talking Tina. Fuck.

Update 6: Clock has ticked past mid-night in my time-zone, making it now 2013, so happy new year. I’m going to crack open a bottle of Upright Seven that I purchased past the security line at PDX last time I was in Portland and watch a few DVR’d episodes of the Looney Toons Show.

Update 7: Goddamn, Upright Seven is foamy as fuck.

Exploding keg kills Redhook Brewery worker

This is one of my plans for dying.

The difference is, my news story will have quotes like, “I don’t know what he was doing, he drank like half the keg and then tried to have sex with it or something and it just blew up.”


As an aside, I used to buy homebrewing supplies from a place called The Shrine of the Beer God, and they had a beer kit named “Red Höek”.