I was an average beer drinker, but I have woken up. But it still disturbs me to see the millions still asleep. And it disturbs me even more to hear them talk. Have you ever tried to talk to someone sleep talking? The words coming out of their mouths don’t make much sense, and they don’t see the world in front of you as you do. Their curtains are closed, and there’s no way to get their attention but to wake them up! But remember to be gentle and patient; few people like to be woken up roughly.
The dream that is Brewdog is kind of like a daydream turned into a lucid dream, but still with all senses functioning. Taste being the strongest of them all. It’s almost unreal, because it’s too good to be true. It’s absurd. And it’s one dream I don’t want to wake up from. And the only way to wake me up from it is to cut off my thong! And for those of you who don’t share it with me, the rest of my words might not make much sense or sound like gibberish. But for me it’s a fantasy come true.
|How to Brewdog, here demonstrated by the Brewdog owners! (Rockstars of beer)
After travelling far and wide through the world of taste, while still being anchored on my petty little throne, in the center of “my dreams” at Cardinal. It’s time to spread my wings and visit the mighty Brewdog pub in Aberdeen. With my trusted helmsman, ginger friend and Coppercab look-alike Bongo Bastard on my side. We will set our sails towards the “Silver city with the golden sands”, Stavanger’s twin city Aberdeen. And when we get there Paradoxes & Trashy Blondes will challenge us. We will use Tactical Nuclear Penguins to Sink The Bismarck. We will be 5 A.M. Saints and Hardcore Punks. We will be barking like Brewdogs until the End Of History!
- Dirty Haffy