This beer is crystal clear, as if fallen directly from the crying eyes of your guardian angel.
It is served in a chalice marked with your name, etched by a man only known as “Moonbeam,” the artisanal craftsman down the street you’ve seen melting metal in his front yard but you’ve always afraid to stop and say hello.
This is convenient, because Moonbeam’s glass is personally suited for your nose so you may pick up smells of toffee, dreams not yet realized and the night air on that July 4 when you felt really patriotic and chanted “USA!” for 3 minutes straight.
You’re in luck, because with each glass Sam Calagione will sit inches away from you, staring deeply into the ocean of your eyes upon each sip. Occasionally, he’ll come close to breathe heavily on the nape of your neck, releasing unknown aromas to emphasize the 12 different hop varieties he personally selected for this beer, crushed by his own bare hands and sprinkled onto boiling wort like fresh-fallen snow. He will whisper the same sweet nothings into your ear as he says to everyone who drinks this beer, but it will still sound uniquely special to you.
Despite its nuclear-hopped style, you will only be able to taste the flavor of vegetive green beans, but it’s like the green beans your grandma used to make for holidays, so it’s totally cool.
Every sip will bring you closer to salvation from your God or celebrity of choice. George Clooney would definitely approve.
The next morning, you will feel like a new person.
P.S. This is a joke.
+Bryan Roth
“Don’t drink to get drunk. Drink to enjoy life.” — Jack Kerouac
