Fuck off I’ve got work to do.

So much nothing has happened I don’t know where to begin.

Beer beer beer beer beer beer beer.  All I have wanted to do since I was 22(a full decade ago) was brew beer.  So a major relocation, two semesters of collage,  an incredibly cliche threesome, subsequent divorce, an intense cohabitation,  another major relocation, three jobs, a breakup, one more relocation, a reconciliation, an intense cohabitation, a new job and finally it seems I may be able to brew beer on a professional, albeit tiny scale.

My boss’s husband is like me, a home brewer with aspirations of a professional future. We have recently acquired a rental space in downtown Knoxville and have begun construction of a flood proof platform to elevate our equipment above the shitty concrete floor. Hopefully before the end of September our first batch of my own formulation will be bubbling away in a second hand refrigerator and before Samhain we should be drinking pints of a black and blessed brew.
In all likely hood it will be an ale, but I may seek to bite off more than I can chew and cold ferment a lager version of a robust porter. Either way it will not be an IPA version of anything, lacking any finishing hops. Yes a big (6.5% abv) malty, roasty, black beer to ring in the darkening of our hemisphere and the cold pain in all our hearts.
Photos and tasting notes to eventually follow.

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