It’s Session #25 (#thesession) and we’re supposed to give a little love to the lager in our life.
I survived last night’s Hopocalyse at Churchills and my body is having a hell of a time climbing out of a hole I dug with at least five or six double IPAs (great, IPAs I might add). So I’m really in no mood to wax poetically about carbonated yellow water.
I might drink a couple, but I’m definitely not going to talk about it.
Here’s my dirty secret: