Stone Pale Ale

5.4% ABV from a sixer

The scientific journal Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences has just discovered a most interesting thing about the Malaysian pen-tailed treeshrew. This 25 centimeters long, 190 grams heavy creature drinks alcohol twenty four hours a day, every single day, guzzling the 3.8% ABV fermented and frothy nectar from the flower buds of the bertam palm. It is the only wild mammal known to be into the “good stuff” and pound-for-pound it is the hardest drinking animal in the universe. Even better, these 55 million years-evolved motherfuckers never get drunk, shitfaced, intoxicated, inebriated, crapulent, blotto, hammered, sloshed, plastered, or even tipsy.

How awesome are they?

Having said that, true I may not be as svelte as the treeshrew or as able to consistently marathon drink as much as them, but I beat those rascally critters in other ways. First, I drink way more potent brews (3.8% is almost as pathetic as Amstel Light. Step it up shrews!), and I would brashly wager I have far better besotted raconteurial skills, beer pong prowess, and adroitness at picking up bar floozies than they do. Plus, when I’m drunk I don’t shit in the woods like them. (Too often at least.)

But let’s not compare dick sizes, treeshrews. Though I’m guessing I would win at that contest too.

I love the treeshrew and I find great inspiration in them and their lifestyles. My dear readers are often concerned about my tippling escapades, but they need not be. I am actually in tip top shape. In fact, I’m not sure how you could read my blog and not realize that alcohol, for the most part, only improves my life. And the treeshrews’.

Dr. Frank Wiens from the University of Bayreuth in Germany (and now The Vice Blog’s #1 recommended healthcare professional) most certainly agrees with me. He believes that there are actually positive effects of the treeshrews’ (and thus humankind’s) insatiable urge to get loaded: “The trait of alcohol consumption is actively maintained during evolution, so the overall effect must be beneficial.”

Score!

So when you’re getting wasted at 10 AM on this upcoming Sunday morning as your wife hauls the kids off to church, don’t be concerned, don’t feel bad about yourself, but relish your drunkeness like you’re WC Fields. And tell your creationist wife that you’re evolved to get drunk and she’s the one not behaving inherently human.

Two nights ago I was visiting my favorite brewery Stone’s website–I look at beers online as if they are pornographic photos–when I noticed they had a Pale Ale. In fact it’s the first beer they ever made. How had I been drinking beers from Stone’s entire line for years and never realized this?! I have literally had every single other major Stone bottling plus numerous special releases, but had never even heard of their Pale Ale. And, I’d certainly never seen it around in stores and bars. Oddly enough, the next day I was visiting my friend in Hoboken when what should I see on his local beer store’s shelf but the Pale Ale. What kismet! Bacchus continues to watch over me!

Stone is known for big, bold, ass-kicking beers, so this seemed to be a very un-Stone-like brew right off the bat. At first sip I didn’t really love it. Seemed kinda bland, like their IPA only with far less hops, far less flavors and complexity, and a semi-sour finish. But by the end of the first bottle I’d grown to really appreciate it. Goes down smooth, a nice combination of creamy and silky hops and malts. In fact, the bottle proudly claims that literally the only ingredients in the beer are hops, malts, yeast, and water. What perfection can be attained from so few ingredients. I can’t recall ever polishing off more than two Stone beers in a night but my friend and I tore through bottle after bottle of the Pale Ale, never getting sick of it. I didn’t think Stone had a sessionable beer in them, but this is about as good as one gets.

A-

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