The Snow Man Cometh

A lot of people have been wondering what happened to this blog, and I'm going to tell you the truth. It all started with what was possibly the worst blizzard we've seen in a decade (at the time, soon to be outdone by what just hit us this weekend and what is coming down the pike tonight). A lot of people worry about milk and bread when a blizzard comes, but these people are fools and these things are tertiary at best. Beer is all you need.

The beer I was snowed in with was "Winter's Bourbon Cask Ale." Its got a big malty flavor and the logo is a jolly snowman in dark sunglasses - what more could you ask for? Oh right - a pleasant $25 price tag on the case. What quirky local brewery was pumping this stuff out? The quirky local brewery called Michelob. Surprise!

As far as macrobrews go, Michelob is probably my favorite. But this beer is really a feather in their hat. It's got a definite small-batch feel, with lots of character and an unusual taste. The beer pours a dark caramel color, and the flavor is loaded with nutty sweetness. "Bourbon casked" isn't just a clever name either - it's right there in the taste. Bravo to Michelob for putting out a bourbon casked beer.

Ah, but how did this jolly beer lead to a month-plus disappearance of Man vs. Beer? There was a problem to being snowed in with the Snowman. Although I really liked it, I found it hard to keep pounding them down in the sort of extended drinking session that a foot of snow demands. Also, heavy snow has always made me a little cagey. If we're ever in an airplane and it goes down in the Alps, you can bet your ass I'm eating you first. For all I knew, this snow might not stop for days. The weathermen are not to be trusted.

Stuffing my pockets with a few bottles of the Snowman, I bolted for the front door, leaving my girlfriend behind in stunned silence. She'll be okay until I return, I reasoned, and doesn't have the sort of stomach for what must be done. I leap from her front porch, my fall broken by the cushion of accumulated powder, and headed east towards the corner bodega in search of sustenance. Despite the snowfall, the bodega was open. I didn't trust this - people should be hunkered down at home waiting for the end, not running corner shops! I smashed through the window. The clerk started shouting something in Spanish, but I was on him immediately. I sunk my teeth into the warm, soft meat of his throat and he was soon silent. I felt simultaneously the pangs of remorse and the jubilee of triumph - this would be enough meat to keep me through the worst of the storm at least, but what a terrible fate nature had cast upon me. I offered a brief prayer on behalf of my fallen prey, and there amongst the various Mexican candies and delicious baked goods I ate my fill of the flesh of man.

My belly full, I found the thick malty goodness of the Bourbon Cask to be ideal at washing away the heavy taste of raw meat and the metallic tang of blood. After polishing off the bottle, it was time to bring home my quarry and ensure the others trapped inside the house would have food enough to weather the storm. I rigged up a makeshift sleigh from a jacket and several loaves of bread, loaded it with the dead Mexican, and started my trek home.

I was only a few paces from the door when I heard an unexpected sound - the unmistakable drunken laughter of a group of people leaving a bar. My interest piqued, I trudged through the snow towards the sound, sled in tow. As I rounded the corner, I saw the local bar was open and crowded despite the weather. If the bar was open, what I did in the bodega was pointless. I could have just gotten a cheeseburger. And maybe some wings. What have I become? How can I live with myself?

I rushed for home, chugging another beer as my ragged sled and its grotesque charge skipped across the ground, and... are you even still reading this? This is ridiculous. I give up. I'm writing a shitty blog, not a goddam Victorian werewolf novel. Why even bother trying to write my way out of this corner? There's no point. The beer is good - if you see it in a bar grab a pint but don't rush out to buy a case. The end. I need a beer.