Whenever I find a Phase Three cracker can in front of me, I place my open palm on my chest and breathe slowly. I need to prepare for this shit y’all, because it’s always going to melt my pubic region into a firm genital forest of a merkin-like afro bush, carefully landscaped and mulched just so. My wife and I handed this beer back and forth for a good four minutes, going glug for glug, until it was empty, and then we looked at each other with marital contempt because the other had squandered our sex liquid. Find this. Hell, find ANY Phase Three beer, and then tell me you don’t want to go back in time, halt the hop bubble liquid from entering your mouth hole, inviting it to enter you further south, and then moan in ecstasy and the strange feeling of when carbonation tickles your pickles, innie or danglie. WHY ARE YOU RE-READING THIS. I SAID WHAT I SAID. - Joel
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Brewery: Phase Three
From: Lake Zurich, IL 🇺🇸
Beer: Discipline For Passion DIPA
ABV: 7.7%
