steve hops

Hop Freshener Series : Dank & Sticky (The Hop Concept)

Brewery : The Hop Concept
Beer : Hop Freshener Series : Dank & Sticky
Style : Double IPA / Imperial IPA / DIPA
Variance : None

8.5 / 10

Talk about hitting the nail directly on the fucking head! The Hop Concept masterfully named this beer after my crotchital region after I go on my daily run because with how hot and sweaty it get’s down there, this beer describes it perfectly. Actually, this beer’s name describes it’s flavors better than “racist piece of human shit” describes Milo Yiannopoulos or “bigot mother fucking loser” describes Steve Bannon. A tsunami of pine and resin flavors start this off with a bitterness so strong that your teeth will feel glued together with the bite before some grass and more pine join in ramping up the flavor even more before ending with a mild alcohol flavor and a monstrous resin flavor crashing down on your taste buds to close. If I could hang this beer from my rearview mirror without every cop pulling me over or breathalyzing me I’d do it in a heartbeat because not only do the flavors going on in my glass blow my mind, the smell is absolutely hypnotizing too! If you haven’t dived into the Hop Freshener Series yet from these guys you really are fucking up because all of these beers are damn near perfect and their names couldn’t be more dead on. If you are a professional drunk like myself or just like to punish your taste buds with amazing flavors pick this up because it delivers on all ends. As for you newbies out there seeking out your membership to the bastard drinking crew, look elsewhere for you first DIPA because this is as pungent as it gets and pulls absolutely no punches and will annihilate your mouth but make sure you come back when you’re ready!

Written by: Steve B.

Okay I’m all for The Risemonger having control of the On The Spot arms but consider this: what if they were semi-sentient and they fucking misbehaved all the time

Like, imagine The Risemonger, all intimidating and creepy and villainous, yelling at these stupid fucking noodle arms to stop touching people for christ’s sake I might be a villain but you’re even making me uncomfortable you goddamn perverts and they just sorta sulk and reluctantly do what they’re actually supposed to be doing

Then ten minutes later…where did my vest go…STEVE WHERE DID YOU PUT MY VEST steve is totally the worst of the noddle arms btw

The M.I.A. book foreword



I met Maya in 1998 at Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design in London. She joined the film degree program late, with no interview. She just blagged her way in on the phone and turned up halfway through the term.


We all dressed in dark colors and talked serious art theory. Maya wore skintight pink jeans and stilettos, she had pink lipstick and fingernails, and she couldn’t spell. Her accent was South London, but her grammar was always kind of off and she wasn’t very articulate, didn’t talk much in class (and 90 percent of the degree was talking because we didn’t have much equipment)

She wasn’t a stand-out student.

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