NBS BIF #15 Hints and Hauls: Was it Over When the Canadians Bombed BIF #14? HELL NO!

That is a whole lotta beer! Nice work @Roy_Hobbs - nice indeed!

 

Whyteboar > Beersnake1

 

He documented once his method for packing the boxes, but I’ve never been able to replicate it. He is the master at it!

 

Using the Large flat rate box, one can get 16x16oz cans in one. Put 2 side by side in the bottom left corner, lids facing right. Then, 2 facing up, then 2 facing left, and 2 down. Repeat on the top layer, but start by putting 2 facing up over the original 2. Use lots of bubble wrap/whatever you're using, ya don't want stuff moving inside the box. Use plenty of packing tape on the outside of the box, in all 3 axis.

12x12oz in the Medium box, 2 layers of 6, each layer has 3 rows of 2 cans.

 

Two more boxes packed and labeled to ship out tomorrow...they will probably make it to their destinations before the end of the week, but no guarantees.

Need to obtain more packing material to pack more boxes...

 

Hello Boys! You miss me?

 

Me too! Which F*cker hit you?!? I'm in trouble with the wife now. She asked if it was my sender. I hesitated. She shook her head and walked away. After a few minutes she came back, I was still unpacking the box. She saw the cans accumulating on the table and said, "Wow, and you're not even done yet." An ungodly hit 16X16. Yep, sixteen 16oz cans of fermented fun.

Here's the damage:

Backpack Beer by Conshohocken Brewing Co. Belgian Style Wheat Beer
ALTernating Currants by Conshohocken Brewing Co. Session Sour w/ Black currants
Life Coach by Conshohocken Brewing Co. Session IPA
Puddlers Row by Conshohocken Brewing Co. All-Season Ale?
Ring The Bell by Conshohocken Brewing Co.Unfiltered Pilsner
Philly Vice by Conshohocken Brewing Co. Blueberry Berliner Weisse
Coffee House Porter by Berkshire Brewing Co.
Mindfulness by Little Log Cabin Quadruple IPA?

Brisk by Tree House German Style Märzen
Simple Life by Tree House Imperial Milk Stout
Extra Vanilla Double Milkshake IPA by Tired Hands
Static Image by Tired Hands West Coast IPA
Ourision by Tired Hands Oak Fermented Saison
Homespun Moon by Tired Hands English Dark Mild
Found a Scythe by Tired Hands Single Hop Nelson Sauvin Double IPA
Everett by Hill Farmstead American Porter

Thank You, Ross!!! @Roy_Hobbs

But why?!? I will enjoy. Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate it. But Holy Hallertau, Batman. That is a LOT of beer.

 

Again...

@Roy_Hobbs

 

@BBThunderbolt

 

Box #1 is loaded and ready to ship out tomorrow morning. Target: @Ozzylizard.

 

I believe sorcery is involved.

 

I predict you'll be surprised by the Extra Vanilla Double Milkshake. I can't predict you'll like it, but it's not what it sounds like . . .

 

So you’re saying need me to send you beer???

He got me too, looks like we’ll be comparing reviews soon…it’s 6:10 AM but if I had to guess I’ll be reaching for the bitter tonight.

 

Nice!

 

Nice!

 

Holy hell!

 

Rolling Rock… Bear with me, there is a long, perhaps not all necessary preamble, but I tell the story the same way every time.

Back in the late 1980s, early 1990s the student unions at the French colleges in Montreal (CEGEP) would offer periodic, partially funded, weekend trips to NYC. They included an overnight bus ride and a two star hotel room to be shared by four people. It was really inexpensive. Like $60 for the weekend.

Anyway, one spring in ‘91 or ‘92 a good friend of mine broke up with his girlfriend the week before a trip they had booked and paid for. He asked me if I wanted his ticket. It meant I’d have to share a bed, platonically, with his ex-girlfriend - I never liked her much - but it was a free trip to NYC. So, I went.

On the way down, I learned that she was planning to meet up with a guy in whom she was interested who was in a band that had been up playing in Montreal a month or so earlier, and would be playing a show in NYC that weekend. She was hopeful she wouldn’t need the hotel room much anyway. This made it a little less awkward. The two people we were paired with were a new couple trying to get some time alone together away from their parents. It was obvious they planned to use the hotel extensively. Some good and some bad.

Anyway, we arrived early in the AM after a long bus ride with little sleep. The other couple got into bed for a ‘nap.’ we headed out to see some sights. My friend’s ex was a little nervous to meet up with the guy from the band. So asked me if I could tag along to his band’s show that night in the lower east side. I didn’t know what I was going to do, didn’t know how to say no, so obliged.

We got to the small dive where they would be playing at about 4 PM. No one was there, so we grabbed a seat at the bar and before we could order, the bar keeper told us that the first keg of Bud Light was a buck a glass (a huge glass) until the first keg kicked the bucket. So, I drank a boatload of Bud Light and figured that the night might not be so bad after all.

By about 9 PM the bar had filled up and the keg was kicked. I had my fair share to say the least, doing my best earthbound Wade Boggs impression. The band was about to start playing and my travelling companion had been unnecessarily nervous as she and the guy had hit it off fine. The barkeep asked me what I wanted next. The guy next to me at the bar was drinking a bottle of Rolling Rock. I’d never had one before, and was even way back then into trying new beers on weekends! I said: “One of those please.”

I took a couple really big sips of that liquid creamed corn and my face must have given away my next move. The barkeeper looked at me, smiled, and pointed in the direction of the bathroom. I made haste to said bathroom, bobbing and weaving through the now crowded bar. When I got there, one filthy stall was miraculously unoccupied. I began praying to the porcelain gods. My only memory of that part of the experience was that regurgitated Rolling Rock brought out even more of the unwanted creamed corn flavour I’d noted on those couple sips. After a few minutes out of time, I was able to get myself together, clean up what little mess I’d made, and make my way back out to the bar.

I composed myself and headed back out. When I went up to the bar to get a glass of water, the barkeeper laughed and said something to the effect of ‘Rolling Rock strikes again!’ He asked if I’d made it to the stall, and seemed happy when I told him I had.

I left the bar halfway through the show, with my travelling companion in good hands. When I got back to the hotel, and up to my room, I was greeted by the sounds of young love coming from behind the room door. Ugh. All I wanted was the bed, but I wasn’t about to interrupt young love. I sat down in front of the door with the intention of waiting out the noise before going in to quietly crash. I woke up the next morning still seated outside the door with a terrible kink in my neck and a head ache for the ages. I went in to the room and spent the better part of the morning laid out, out of commission. I didn’t see much more of NYC that weekend, and didn’t really feel myself until getting on the bus to go home to Montreal.

Since that day, I have never had another sip of Rolling Rock or a spoonful of creamed corn. I’ve never been back to NYC either, but only the first two have been seriously intentional.

 

Great story.