The abyss! We all have to face it from time to time. There’s no escaping it, after all. What begins with a simple yet sensational life event, like Sweden winning the women’s football world cup, leads to jubilant dancing in a public flower pot, which leads to a reliably measured response from the Ordningsvakt, which leads to a night in the drunk-tank, to stare at those tired, yellow walls, single lightbulb ablaze, with only a sock from your foot available as an eye mask. If, that is, you choose to cover your eyes, pretend it isn’t happening. Or do you confront the wall? Red, tired eyes to yellow, tired wall, life flashing before you. All the bad choices, regrets, trials and tribulations. Insults hurled at family gatherings, guilt from all the times you scanned the expensive, rare vegetables in the supermarket and told the machine it was garlic, the years you spent calling desiccated coconut desecrated coconut and wondered why everybody laughed every time that you did. You know now, in this moment, that you’ll never get those years back, and you know too, that the worst of your fears are also a damning class indictment, and you hate how middle class you are. If only you’d made other life choices, committed cooler crimes, stuck to orange carrots, instead of risking your neck for that purple carroted silliness. But suddenly! The door opens, and it’s a tired looking man, and he tells you that you’re sober now and that you’re free to leave, even though you haven’t spoken since he slammed that heavy door behind you. But you assume some bigger, drunker crimes have been committed, and that after three hours glo in i väggen, you can finally breathe the fresh air of a free person, and that waiting for you beyond the prison walls is a mAx, and that you will taste the loaded jalapeno fries of freedom, the plant beef patty and salted caramel milkshake of independence, and you promise to yourself that you will never again stare at those tired yellow walls, and you will never again celebrate too enthusiastically during a once in a lifetime event, and that you will live a quiet, hermetic life of discipline and respect and at all costs you will avoid staring into the abyss again, because the abyss scares you, the truth of your life hurts and the past haunts. And if fast food is good for anything it’s smothering the past in saturated fat, coating your organs with it, so they never have to feel the pain of the real world again, so that they can live in delicious, blissful ignorance and be happy.
NEIPA TIPA 10% . Golden Promise base with oats and wheat. Dry hopped with Citra, Simcoe and HBC 630. Full bodied, creamy, low bitterness with classical tropical fruit notes and sweet fruits and berries from the HBC 630.
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