I suppose it was inevitable that there’d be a beer I didn’t fancy as much as some of the others. If I were better versed in the language of the brewing arts I might be able to explain why it fell short, but all that I can say is “meh.”
The Hop House Lager 13 I drank at Morrisey’s Pub in Doonbeg on Wednesday night didn’t thrill me. It wasn’t awful, but I had no desire to order a second pint. So I ordered a dessert with eclairs, ice cream, and chocolate sauce. It was amazing. Life in Ireland is pretty sweet.
Shall I offer a toast?
He’s a fool who give over the liquor,
It softens the skinflint at once,
It urges the slow coach on quicker,
Gives spirit and brains to the dunce.
The man who is dumb as a rule
Discovers a great deal to say,
While he who is bashful since Yule
Will talk in an amorous way.
It’s drink that uplifts the poltroon
To give battle in France and in Spain,
Now here is an end of my turn-
And fill me that bumper again!