Favorite Malt Liquor

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bigwalling

climber
Topic Author's Original Post - Dec 21, 2004 - 01:21pm PT
Here is something climbing related. Discuss!
Russ Walling

Social climber
Bishop is DEAD, long live JT
Dec 21, 2004 - 01:25pm PT
in order:
Olde E
Steele Reserve
Camo
Blue Bull if none of the above

never:
Colt 45
Cobra
David

Trad climber
San Rafael, CA
Dec 21, 2004 - 01:36pm PT
I'm not a malt liquor fan(give me an IPA every time) but for sentimental value I'd have to say

Little Kings Cream Ale

"Doesnt smell the best , but its small size (7oz) makes drinking them easy. The fairly potent AC (5.5%) tends to creep up on you after an 8 pack of them or so."
Roger Breedlove

Trad climber
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
Dec 21, 2004 - 04:15pm PT
I Like single malts, neat, especially if someone else is buying. I'm not so sure that I would mix these up with climbing--worst hangovers I have ever had.
can't say

Social climber
Pasadena CA
Dec 21, 2004 - 07:12pm PT
cool thread. For me my fav has to be Foster's Bitter (green can), I'm not sure if it qualifies as a malt liquor, but it sure does give the ole personality a nice twist. And while I really, really want to put down some American swill like OE as one of my favs, the truth of the matter is that I almost get a gag reflex when drinking that stuff.

My favs:
Foster's Bitter
Green Labels
Red Hook ESB
Karg Hefeweisen
Schneider Hefewisse, which I'm sipping now...mmmmmmmm bier
phillip mike revis

climber
snowbird, ut
Dec 21, 2004 - 07:39pm PT
when you say blue bull do you mean "the bull" schlitz malt liquor
the offical drink of cool and the gang
Russ Walling

Social climber
Bishop is DEAD, long live JT
Dec 21, 2004 - 07:45pm PT
There used to be "red" bull , and "blue" bull. The difference was on the label..... the blue bull had a giant penis and the red bull was devoid of shank. We only drank the blue.

I can't believe that Kool and the Gang picked up on our witey vibe..... way to go Hollywood Swingers!
mike

climber
tahoe city, ca.
Dec 21, 2004 - 07:58pm PT
Lovelace taught me how to drink Cobras a long time ago. Old English taste like medicine. Steel Reserve is as potent as it gets.(for me).I think the question is how much malt liquor can you drink?
Rhodo-Router

Trad climber
Otto, NC
Dec 23, 2004 - 01:40am PT
After high school, and not by much, Sanjay and I found ourselves one afternoon in a DC bar with a beer menu eight pages long and a lust for vicarious travel. We would see the world, if only by tasting its beer. Round after round went down, by themes. Scandinavia. Named after women. Raspberry. Animals. Someone backed away, leaving a couple bills and mumbled excuses. We stayed. The world swirled down in that boozy brick rathskellar, shrunk 'til all we could conceive was the ordering principle of the next round. Malt liquors. Sanjay's was small, relatively tasty, Germanic. Mine was none of these-- Red Horse, a huge, phallic oil-can of swampy, fetid Filipino swill. They'd probably had it for years, festering in the damp rear of the boundless walk-in. Halfway through, I begged off. It was warm. Faintly sour. Tasted like sloppy seconds, the day after. Don't make me do this, I pleaded. Sanjay was merciless. I must finish. Fate had dealt me a cruel hand, but I was to play it through. Eventually, I choked back the last cheesy dregs, stifling a rising tide at the back of my throat. A dim awareness of the world outside percolated to the surface of our sodden cortices, when two realities became at once apparent: the bill would be enormous, and the door was right over there. Lurching through the now-crowded basement, we stumbled forth into the steaming District night. Success! The three-digit tab would be somebody else's problem, and we set off towards home. Three right turns later, I began to realize that Sanjay was taking us back to the bar. My bike, he explained. Next to the bike stood the fuming bier-maiden, check in hand. 'You guys left without paying', she spat. 'Fool!' I hissed at Sanjay-- 'you're paying this''! Plastic was produced, that of Sanjay's teetotalling Indian parents, who would of course be horrified, but such was not my concern. Rather, I was becoming acutely focused on squelching the swelling churn in my stomach. Back at the ranch, Sanjay beat me to the head and fell to his knees, ralphing over and over the itinerary of our world tour. I, however, proudly kept back the tides, holding down a miscegenated swamp of global brews. Storms tossed the bed, but I held fast, and eventually slipped into sleep.

Sanjay was alive. This much I knew, as his every motion threatened the fragile membrane holding my head together. Movement was unthinkable until Sanjay, trying to quietly slip into the kitchen through the dense blindness of his own toxic aftermath, tripped and sent the coffeepot to the floor. The tides were loosed. A thousand cannonballs pounded my throbbing temples, and a wave of poison rushed up from bruised guts, foaming, bearing chunks of dinner aloft. Desperate for the bathroom, I lurched from bed. Sheets conspired to wrap my ankles as I fell to the floor, convulsing, hurking back the wave. It burst. Acid bile surged up my throat, through my nose, through my mouth, blasting sour liquid across a wide swath of Sanjay's father's partner's apartment. Wave after wave thrashed my body, from waist to spewing head, until at last I washed up on shore, gasping, faintly whimpering, bitter chunks at rest in my nostrils. A universe of dull pain bound my head. Sanjay was silent. He went to the bathroom and produced two Percocet, from his wisdom tooth procedure. 'We'll deal with this later'.
T2

climber
Cardiff by the sea
Dec 23, 2004 - 09:57am PT
What about Micky's? Smooth, intoxicating, and they come in 24 oz cans, perfect for packing in the haulbag. Hey Mike, Rick taught me how to drink the cobras as well, but as I age the Micky's seem to go down a little smoother. (Are you Mike Davis?)
Nohea

Trad climber
Aiea,Hi
Dec 23, 2004 - 09:59pm PT
As any of you who have drank with me in the valley will know.....I will gladly pay the difference to bring in beer....any beer before malt liquor. Happy with Bud light. Prefer wine, the store at the lodge has Raging Bull Zin for $10 which is fine with me.
Now on every trip I have brought a bottle of single malt. Last year Glenfiddich this year Talisker, year before Glenlivet 18. Never had a problem with help finishing off the bottle.
But of course in a pinch, I will drink any malt liquor.

The Bill
bigwalling

climber
Topic Author's Reply - Dec 23, 2004 - 10:09pm PT
Ha, I like malt liquor over pretty much any beer I have had. But anything works!

Cobra is sure cheap compared to ANY other beverage in the valley.
coiler

Trad climber
yosemite
Dec 25, 2004 - 04:37pm PT
The only name you need to know, Olde english "800". It's what Walt would do. I'll be pouring one out for him on his and my birthday, January 16th. It's our tradition. Any other"malt liquor" is for training purposes only, not fit for big wall consumtion!
Holdplease2

Trad climber
All over
Dec 25, 2004 - 05:53pm PT
While I'm not a fan of the whole "drinking is climbing" thing, I felt it was my duty to field-test some of the goods.

I found Cobra to be largely ineffective and unpleasant.

One OE800, however, and the following morning my friend asked me (to my surprise) "so, who was that guy you were with last night?"

Doh.

-Kate.
Holdplease2

Trad climber
All over
Dec 25, 2004 - 06:48pm PT
Of course. But I must tell you, my tolerance is a bit higher now. :)

-Kate.
Mike Dahlquist

Trad climber
Berkeley, CA
Dec 27, 2004 - 03:43am PT
"XXX" Country Club. $5.00 will get you 3 ice cold 40 ouncers at the Safeway nearest you.
MisterE

Social climber
Bouncy Tiggerville
Jan 17, 2011 - 03:05am PT
While I'm not a fan of the whole "drinking is climbing" thing, I felt it was my duty to field-test some of the goods.

I found Cobra to be largely ineffective and unpleasant.

One OE800, however, and the following morning my friend asked me (to my surprise) "so, who was that guy you were with last night?"

Doh.

-Kate.

Too funny! Hope to see you guys soon!

Excellent story RR
The Larry

climber
Moab, UT
Jan 17, 2011 - 03:23am PT

Disaster Master

Social climber
Born in So-Cal, left my soul in far Nor-Cal.
Jan 17, 2011 - 11:27am PT
Funny story. Good read. Bump...

Rhodo-Router wrote:



Rhodo-Router


Trad climber
Otto, NC Dec 22, 2004 - 10:40pm PT
After high school, and not by much, Sanjay and I found ourselves one afternoon in a DC bar with a beer menu eight pages long and a lust for vicarious travel. We would see the world, if only by tasting its beer. Round after round went down, by themes. Scandinavia. Named after women. Raspberry. Animals. Someone backed away, leaving a couple bills and mumbled excuses. We stayed. The world swirled down in that boozy brick rathskellar, shrunk 'til all we could conceive was the ordering principle of the next round. Malt liquors. Sanjay's was small, relatively tasty, Germanic. Mine was none of these-- Red Horse, a huge, phallic oil-can of swampy, fetid Filipino swill. They'd probably had it for years, festering in the damp rear of the boundless walk-in. Halfway through, I begged off. It was warm. Faintly sour. Tasted like sloppy seconds, the day after. Don't make me do this, I pleaded. Sanjay was merciless. I must finish. Fate had dealt me a cruel hand, but I was to play it through. Eventually, I choked back the last cheesy dregs, stifling a rising tide at the back of my throat. A dim awareness of the world outside percolated to the surface of our sodden cortices, when two realities became at once apparent: the bill would be enormous, and the door was right over there. Lurching through the now-crowded basement, we stumbled forth into the steaming District night. Success! The three-digit tab would be somebody else's problem, and we set off towards home. Three right turns later, I began to realize that Sanjay was taking us back to the bar. My bike, he explained. Next to the bike stood the fuming bier-maiden, check in hand. 'You guys left without paying', she spat. 'Fool!' I hissed at Sanjay-- 'you're paying this''! Plastic was produced, that of Sanjay's teetotalling Indian parents, who would of course be horrified, but such was not my concern. Rather, I was becoming acutely focused on squelching the swelling churn in my stomach. Back at the ranch, Sanjay beat me to the head and fell to his knees, ralphing over and over the itinerary of our world tour. I, however, proudly kept back the tides, holding down a miscegenated swamp of global brews. Storms tossed the bed, but I held fast, and eventually slipped into sleep.

Sanjay was alive. This much I knew, as his every motion threatened the fragile membrane holding my head together. Movement was unthinkable until Sanjay, trying to quietly slip into the kitchen through the dense blindness of his own toxic aftermath, tripped and sent the coffeepot to the floor. The tides were loosed. A thousand cannonballs pounded my throbbing temples, and a wave of poison rushed up from bruised guts, foaming, bearing chunks of dinner aloft. Desperate for the bathroom, I lurched from bed. Sheets conspired to wrap my ankles as I fell to the floor, convulsing, hurking back the wave. It burst. Acid bile surged up my throat, through my nose, through my mouth, blasting sour liquid across a wide swath of Sanjay's father's partner's apartment. Wave after wave thrashed my body, from waist to spewing head, until at last I washed up on shore, gasping, faintly whimpering, bitter chunks at rest in my nostrils. A universe of dull pain bound my head. Sanjay was silent. He went to the bathroom and produced two Percocet, from his wisdom tooth procedure. 'We'll deal with this later'.

mctwisted

climber
Jan 17, 2011 - 12:45pm PT
anyone coming to yosemite via 140 should know you can pick up 3-12 packs of steel researve for $10 at the last gas station on the left as your leaving maraposa.(at the 4 way stop signs on 140). such a deal!
Messages 1 - 20 of total 34 in this topic << First  |  < Previous  |  Show All  |  Next >  |  Last >>
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