Payday, boredom, and a complete lack of social life are a dangerous combination when you have idle hands. So with no alternative plans for friday night other than staring at the walls, I decided to... stare at them drunk instead. Awesome.
My initial plan was to try and get four different pils beers, but I could only find three in my shitty local supermarket, so I rounded it up with an ale, I think, purely based on the fact it was called Berserker-something-or-other. Metal as fuck.
The Holsten was bought based on a stunning recommendation ("it's one of the slightly less shitty German pils beers") but I could only get a 4 pack, so I guess I better like it!
I'll find out soon enough, seeing as it's first up.
Cracking open a can is something I rarely do with beer anymore, at least since my tastes, and drinking environment, have long since graduated from a shitty warm 4-pack of Budweiser swigged while huddled on a someone else's floor, so it's a little weird to see the froth bubble out of the top of the can and down the side. My first swig is a necessity more than enjoyment, to stop this stuff soaking me.
But that first swig? Not too bad. Not too bad at all.
Seeing as it's the first beer of the evening, and I'm taking the first pull about 10 minutes after I bought it, it's unchilled, so I don't really get any sense of refreshment out of it, but it's wet and I'm thirsty, so it does the trick. I'll stick the others in the fridge and try 'em later, see if it can rise above tolerable when chilled.
Next up is the Belgian Premium Pils. Now this one was given a while in the ol' cooler, so my first pull is teeth-tinglingly refreshing. This is a really fucking tiny bottle, so I get through it in about 10 minutes. That might also have something to do with the fact that it's a really light, crisp beer, one of the myriad brews I describe as 'real good, I could drink ten of 'em!'. Although anyone that knows me or has drank with me knows after about three beers I'm as many sheets to the wind.
That reputation we Scots have for being able to hold our booze? Yeah, well I'm the exception that proves the rule. But that doesn't mean I don't enjoy necking as many beers as I can until standing up becomes an issue. And these Premium Pils? I could drink ten of 'em.
Third of the evening is the big bastard bottle of Czech goodness, the Pilsner Urquell.
I'm a little intimidated by the size of this one. Also, the fact it's in a green bottle leaves me sceptical, but in the name of beer, I persevere (say that aloud, then compliment me on my hyming skillz, thanks)!
I'm glad I do. This is more like what I expect of a Pils, a really crisp fizziness, a tang, a kick, a little bitter, a little unpleasant at first, but after I get over the first impression, I warm up to it's cold goodness. There ain't a whole lot to say about it except that based on the fact it's Czech, and I plan on spending a whole lot of time over there next summer, that it bodes well for spending many nights (or days, if I'm feeling decadent/like a drunken loser) sipping on a few of these 500ml bad boys.
If I actually make it there, and you see me, come buy me a Pilsner Urquell or two at Obscene Extreme, Fluff Fest or Brutal Assault Fest. I'll be the lightweight Scotsman grinning madly at whatever grind-y goodness is on stage.
Do I have it in me to tackle the last beer, to get my Berserker on? Of fucking course I do. In thename of ...something. Reviewiness? Journalism? HA! Who am I kidding, no-one reads this shit except me when I proof-read it. And even then I do a shitty half-assed job of it. ANYWAY. BEER.
This is brewed a little closer to home, seeing as it's described as a Hebridean Pale Ale, so it'll be a welcome break from the pils-overload of the past couple of drinks.
The smell alone as I raise the bottle to my mouth is great, a rich, dark, sweet PUNGEANCE! I've no idea if thats a word, or if it is, if that's the correct spelling, but it covers what I want to say, so fuckit.
First gulp: URGH! Okay, I'm not even giving this another chance, that was actually fucking disgusting. Pale ale? It's like fucking rotten treacle! No. Not even drinking that out of morbid curiosity. Fucking foul.
Here's some sounds that tie in with the title, and are just as thick and foul as the last beer...
full credit to KILLTHATCAT.COM for this footage
