No amount of inspiration is going to to get me through this post.

I've resigned myself to the idea that, without persistence, this will be a short-lived blog. And how can the nine of you properly express interest in my life if I can't properly express my life's interests? It's called a quandary.

So which beer would be most fitting to signify this uphill battle I'm currently engaged in?

(Pregnant pause.)

It could be Dubbel. Certainly I had to make a concerted effort to enjoy it, with its dried fruits, funky yeast, and low hop profile. I had been on an IPA/DIPA/IIPA/DEA bender, although less in the sense of puking-blood-loss-of-eight-days-consiousness, and more in the sense of I-can't-get-enough-lupulin-on-my-tongue. Oh alpha acids.

But that isn't good enough, because after I quit my predisposition towards the beer, and probably just as much after the IBUs I'd inhaled had a chance to lose their grip on my palate, I enjoyed it. Hell, I'm planning on drinking this when I get off work in ten minutes.

It can't be anything with wheat as a majority of the grist, because... fuck wheat.

Faster.

Dogfish 120 Minute isn't a bad idea; it's impossible to drink one in less than an hour. But god, isn't that kind of passe? I don't know how many people (of the dread-locked, Birkenstock variety) have told me the beer was "complex" (one.)

I'm sure you feel that way, Grateful Dead. Does it open up with some Hindu Kush, leading to AK-47, finishing with a deep edge of Cinderella 99? Or do you just know that complex is a positive term to use when describing a beer?

This shit is dank - I mean, complex. bra.

Maybe it's the beer I haven't had, the beer that can't inspire because it hasn't been tasted. I like that idea; there's always something I haven't had yet, and there's is always a source of inspiration.

How's that for a tidy ending?