Oskar Blues Deviant Dale’s – A Short History of Deviance and Eproctophilia

Next up, Oskar Blues Deviant Dale’s IPA (in nifty 16-oz. tall boy cans):

According to Oskar Blues, their Dale’s Pale Ale sold its soul at the crossroads, and voila: Deviant Dale’s IPA. Granted, Dale was no wallflower to begin with; but he was a pale ale, so he was generally a pretty neighborly fellow. In fact, enough so, that upon hearing of his recent deviance, his neighbors likely had the typical reaction, “Dale was such a nice guy. I never would have guessed. I mean, look at his hydrangeas.”

Although, maybe Dale’s deviance shouldn’t be such a shocker. History is full of surprising deviants. James Joyce’s love letters to his wife reveal that he was rather fond of spankings (eh, fairly tame), very hard spankings (OK, to each his own)…and he had a bit of a case of eproctophilia (uhhhhh). So enamored was he with his wife Nora’s flatulence, that he proudly proclaimed, “I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women.” Wow. Somewhere, Bob Eubanks is kicking himself for not having thought of that.

I must be getting home, really. We're having cabbage for dinner tonight.

Of course, Benjamin Franklin was a forefather of our country…and apparently also a post-menopausal-cougar hunter. In written counsel to a young man on the choice of a mistress, he salaciously asserted that with older women there is no hazard of children and that “as in the dark all Cats are grey, the Pleasure of corporal Enjoyment with an old Woman is at least equal, and frequently superior, every Knack being by Practice capable of Improvement.” Ben, you sly dog.

This deviant pours clear golden-amber, with a glorious, frothy, white head that slowly recedes and leaves significant lace and curtains. The smell…oh the smell. It smells like you are standing at the confluence of an Ataulfo mango grove, a thai basil farm, an orange and grapefruit grove, and an Afroman concert. The taste is pungent, resinous, and citrusy. This thing is a Columbus hop bomb: The pungent, piney, and slight spiceyness of a great mango; the Afroman concert; some woodiness; and citrus (orange and deep grapefruit) playing a supporting role. The malt is a bit of an afterthought, but there is just enough there. Actually, a little more sweetness and caramel come out when the beer warms. It has a medium body and just the right amount of carbonation. And the finish gives you a nice bitter burn, with the aforementioned aromas and flavors swirling around in your sinuses.

Every time I open the fridge, I look at this beer. I think about it periodically during the day. If the Haybag gets home before I do, I am hoping all the way home that she has one poured for me when I get there. This is now one of my favorite IPAs. Actually, I think I might be developing a Columbus hop fetish.

The Haybag: This is a very good IPA. I am a little worried, however, that you are starting to exhibit some deviant hop behavior.

It's a disease!


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