T’was the Night of the Triple Bock

sam-adams-triple-bock

Bottle of Samuel Adams Triple Bock Beer Chunks (please consult your therapist before consuming this beverage as it has been known to cause psychological damage to those who drink it. Plus it just doesn’t taste very good at all!)

Staying in the same vein as my last post, The Meaning of the Word Pals, the following poem was written to memorialize the drinking of a 14-year old Triple Bock with my wife and four other pals (one of whom was lucky enough to be pregnant and therefore couldn’t participate in consuming this brew). The Triple Bock is a beer produced by the Samuel Adams Brewing Company and is brewed in the ale style defined as “Absolutely Disgusting”. Additionally, the Triple Bock clocks in at a whopping 18% alcohol. This may seem like an extreme amount of alcohol for a beer but when you consider the fact that most people will never get past the first sip of this brew it’s really no higher than a Bud Light. So, without further ado, I present to you… 

 

T’was the Night of the Triple Bock*

 

T’was the night of the Triple Bock and all through the bar

Great beer was flowing that was brewed from both near and far

Menus were perused with anticipation and delight

For the food and drink that would fill our bellies that night

 

The patrons were all talking, laughing and sipping

While dancing through their heads were thoughts of fried foods and sauces for dipping

And at our table we gave the waitress our order

Then began conversing about this, that and the other

 

When the waitress brought out our beers we each picked ours up

And said cheers as we clinked each other’s cups

With a beer in hand our merriment grew

But in the back of our minds there was something we knew we must do

 

The neon and street lamps turned night into day

Preventing us all from trying to run away

When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,

But a little blue-bottle containing 14 year-old beer

 

As we stared at the mere 8.45 oz bottle with the black foiled top

We knew in a moment that it was a Sam Adams Triple Bock

More rapid than eagles the sweat poured down our faces

At the thought of drinking this dreadful libation

 

 “Drink Nathan!”, “Drink T!”, Drink M–gan!”

V said with glee as he poured it

“Chug Travis!” “Let none go to waste!”

(Travis’s wife was given a break because of her delicate state)

 

As thick as motor-oil that beer did pour

Instantly staining the glass as V poured in more

Then a sight was beheld that is sickening to this day

Beer chunks floating about in a most appalling way

 

Then, in a twinkling, we remembered a boast

“I can drink two Triple Bocks back-to-back while you all could just drink one at the most”

In unison we turned our eyes to she who made this claim

And by the look in her eyes we knew she remembered the same

 

By M’s face we could tell her confidence had been shaken

By the look of the Bock’s chunky gyrations

As she took up the glass her hand did tremble

While she tried to determine what the smell did resemble

 

A hint of soy sauce, a dash of molasses

A bit of whisky and perhaps something that comes from our a**es

She brought the brackish liquid to her lips and took her first drink

Would this be the first drink of an historical two we all began to think?

  

Alas, it was not to be and her face said it all

Her lips began to tremble and her complexion was a pall

At that moment we all knew what to do

We had to help M dispose of this brew

 

In a forced look of confidence Nathan took his first sip

And immediately felt his stomach start doing a flip

Next V took up the mug of slop

And we were sure that we would be cleaning up his dinner with a mop

 

T took her turn to be polite

And had to force her sip down using the mightiest of mights

Then Travis did something no human should ever do

He took a big drink after stuffing his cheek with dried beef like a wad of chew

 

With the glass empty we sprang from the table

Wishing what we did had just been a fable

Then, in unison, we all did exclaim:

“Good God I think I’m dying and the Triple Bock is to Blame!”

 

*Please do no try this at home. Really.

IMG_2947

Triple Bock Beer Chunks in their Natural State.



Categories: Beer, Humor

Tags: , , , , ,

3 replies

  1. This reminds me we have an obligation. An obligation to find something that rivals the Triple Bock. Certainly that couldn’t have been a one time mistake. Others will make it. And we will find them.

Trackbacks

  1. State of the Blog Address: 2014 « Accounting 4 Life

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: