Good Times Wheat Ale
Minhas Craft Brewery

My God. I didn't think this beer even existed online. I distinctly remember my friends digging up a 12pk, maybe 15, from my local liquor store (the same chain I would come to work for roughly a year later,) and heading out to do a day drink. It helps to note that we also paid in almost exclusively change so that should give you some indication of the desperation of my teenage drinking years. This beer is probably the worst I've ever had, but the body of it is so watery and tasteless that my Metis friend managed to shotgun 3 in a row only to vomit all over the baseball diamond while we cheered him on, telling him his Native blood would carry him through. Didn't quite happen that way and I lost the video footage of that incident a few months later.

Good Times Wheat Ale does not = "Good Times"

355ml can, another lonely find at a semi-local Liquor Behemoth outlet here in northern Alberta, so very far from the factory (I use that word purposefully) in Wisconsin.

This beer pours a hazy pale golden yellow colour, with two rapidly disappearing fingers of thinly foamy, dirty white head, which leaves but a single morose blotted speck of lace around the glass.

It smells of melted plastic, musty pale, woe begotten grain, some Pop Rocks sugary sweetness, and everybody's favourite over-stewed veggie 'essence'. The taste is saccharine sweet grainy malt, filtered through the lowest ring of Dante's hell, a dusty, musty essence that may or may not represent the purported wheat in this charade, and more Toys 'R Us petrochemical offensiveness.

The carbonation is average, unusually raising the bar, the body a sickly soul-deprived medium weight, and smooth in a recently mixed grape soda sort of way. It finishes sweet, natch, the plastic, refined sugar, and distilled vegetables all representing.

There is nothing evenly remotely 'wheaty', nor 'Good Times', for that matter, about this sordid affair - it's just another cheap-ass, over-sweetened adjunct lager and/or ale masquerading as something that the marketing department in their fake ivory tower offices in Calgary think they can pass off to the slavering masses. And they just might, sadly.