The Brew Slut*
The Brew Slut had considered calling herself the Brew Hottie, or the Brew Bitch, or even the Brew HasAVagina, but ultimately nixed all those options. The Brew Hottie sounded too childish, the Brew Bitch sounded too aggressively feminist, dykeish even, and she in no way wanted any cute beer geeks to think she swung that way. That’s why she had briefly considered the Brew HasAVagina, but ultimately thought that might be seen as clinical if not confusing. What has a vagina? The brew itself?! Suffice to say, Brew Pussy was also out for obviously reasons.
Thus she decided to become the Brew Slut (to differentiate herself from those boring girls that actually cared about beer), bought a URL from GoDaddy, and registered her new beer blog with Wordpress. She was ready to go. To take over the beer world.
Now the Brew Slut didn’t really know much about beer, but that was fine, she was young and didn’t know much about anything. But she sure liked to drink, loved going to bars and having all the boys fawning all over her. Not the cool bars of course. At the cool bars the cool boys paid attention to the legitimately attractive girls, the thin girls, the non-annoying girls.
The Brew Slut had gone from club to lounge to tavern to pub to dive to watering hole until she finally found one place where men paid attention to her: the craft beer bar. At first, she had thought she’d accidentally wandered into a gay bar. Besides the waitress, there wasn’t a single female in the joint! But no, these men were dressed too schlubby and were far too out of shape to be gay.
She had sat down, ordered an Allagash White–the only beer on tap she’d ever even heard of–and before she’d taken one sip, guys were talking to her. Yeah, the guys were kinda chunky, slathered in bad facial hair, wedged into tight beer-related tee-shirts, nervous and fidgety despite being socially lubricated–but they were talking to her! They didn’t care that she was mediocre-looking, that she had a big beer gut, or that she was loud and annoying, they still desired her! These were now her people! And so long as she pretended that she might one day fuck these dorks, they continued to slobber all over her. And she loved the attention.
The Brew Slut started posting three days a week on her Brew Slut blog, mainly cut-and-paste jobs of brewery press releases, stolen Google images of beer bottles, a rare review of a common beer she’d had which were essentially just regurgitations of other smarter people’s earlier reviews of said beer. But what the Brew Slut most specialized in were posting photos of herself.
The Brew Slut comically hugging a huge flight of beer samples.
The Brew Slut shoving her sloppy tits into some unwitting bartender’s face.
The Brew Slut clinking glasses and cheers-ing her “fellow” beer geeks.
Man, the Brew Slut thought she was one gorgeous creature. And why wouldn’t she? For every time the Brew Slut posted pictures of herself she’d immediately get an enormous influx of comments from web-surfing beer geeks:
u look hawt brew slut lol
I really like you in that dress, Brew Slut.
more pics plz!!!!!
The Brew Slut’s blog traffic was increasing rapidly, as beer geeks told their geeky friends about this chick–this Beer Slut!–that actually likes beer! Like US. She must be the perfect woman.
Trying to spread her “brand”–the Brew Slut was one of those dumb people that always spoke in buzz words like “branding” and “paradigm”–the Brew Slut took to Facebook and Twitter with abandon.. She would use all the tools of “Web 2.0″ and “social networking” to become a star. She befriended on Facebook all the big wigs in the industry. Began writing to them on Twitter too.
The BrewSlut @dogfishbeer Hope to one day have a pint with Sam! #whore 1 minute ago from txt
TheBrewSlut @sierranevadaca Your beers make me horny! #whore 2 minutes ago from TweetDeck
TheBrewSlut @StoneGreg Me, you, and an Arrogant Bastard sounds like a terrific 3some! #whore 3 minutes ago from Twitterific
Shamelessly e-flirting. Dozens upon dozens of tweets and re-tweets and re-tweet-tweets per day.
Wouldn’t you know it, the guys that ran the beer industry soon took to her just like the beer geeks did. They started buying advertising from her, inviting her to beer festivals and private tastings, special release parties and pairing dinners–gratis, comped, on the hizzy–where she would yak their ears off about her brand under the guise of interviewing them for her blog. All the while shoving her tits in their faces.
The brewmasters were only human and a girl–even a mediocre one that brays like a donkey–was still more fun to be around than 99% of the beer geeks that hectored them with questions about proper attenuation.
Drunk one night off of some of the rarest beers in the world, after finally reaching the top, the Brew Slut went to bed thinking:
“What’s everyone talking about us gals having it tough? All you gotta do is find an industry with a lack of females in it, and a ton of loser-ish men, and you will easily conquer it. Man, it’s great to have a vagina.”
It was the only wise thought the Brew Slut had ever had.
8% ABV bottled
I enjoyed this Lost Abbey masterpiece during an impromptu souring tasting alongside Temptation and Beatifcation–masterpieces in their own right–yet Veritas blew both out of the water. My man DW provided this ultra-rare retired beer, a blending of Yellow Bus, Duck Duck Gooze, and Cuvee de Tomme, one of which I’d had before (Tomme), one of which I own but have yet to tipple (Duck Duck) and one of which I shall probably never touch sadly enough (Yellow Bus.) I didn’t know what to expect and was a little thrown when the brew poured an an apricot orangey yellow with just a touch of foam. Didn’t exactly smelled sour and I started to get confused about the style. But my first sip was magnificently wild and each additional one was even better. Fizzy but smooth, strong tastes of sweet peaches which blended nicely with a citric and grape tartness to make for some sumptuous drinking. Just silly complex, juicy and bursting with flavor, I see absolutely no flaw in this offering. Even most A pluses have a minor flaw or two, but not this one. Not only the best wild ale I’ve ever had, Veritas 004 is in the running for the best beer of my life. You’ll probably never get to try this beer and, shit, I probably will never get to try it again, so I guess we’re both back to square one now, aren’t we?
Fuck what all the haters keep lobbing toward Lost Abbey–overpriced, overflat, etc–they have quickly become maybe my favorite brewery in America.
*Any similarities to sluts living or dead, is probably intentional. And, if there actually is some “Brew Slut” somewhere out there, I appologize for taking her name in vain.