The Wrong Portland

I have made a mistake.

I have also determined that Portland, Oregon is far superior to Portland, Maine (according to this infinitesimally small sample size). 

I live in the same building as a Trader Joe's. I once lived a good life. I loved everything there up until today. And then I tried this affront to humanity. All of the post-Renaissance advances crumble to dust in the face of this poison. Cormac McCarthy would brand this the official beer of The Road.

I'm making sure the picture is right next to the this text just so that none of our readers cracks open one of these by mistake while going through this post.  

You're welcome. 

Avoid at all costs.

When I first cracked open Kennebunkport Brewing Co.'s IPA, I thought I smelled Pabst. You know, kind of like that smell you picture in NCIS when they first open the door to an apartment someone died in last fiscal year. 

I took a sip to confirm my fears. Holy. Moley. This beer tastes about as a sip of the PBR you opened last night at that sketchy party you woke up on the lawn of. But even worse than that because the shame you're feeling comes from the fact that you bought this of your own volition instead of the obscenities Sharpied on your head. 

Uh-oh. Now you're feeling the fear. Fear even worse than that of the impending hangover you incurred on your tab from last night. The fear of having to drink 5 more of these because otherwise you spent $5.99 on just this.

Go on. Do it. It's not like you have any self-respect.

(insincere) Cheers,

Philippe

PS: Oh my god look at how bad it looks!!!!!