Tales of Tucson

Cold cash for more brew

Jesus wanted our money — but this time it was for a good cause: better brewing from Larry, for fuck’s sake.

It’s been a couple of years since the most selfish Go fund me campaign in history bought a fermentor for Larry.

Since then Larry has been a brewing fool. Making honey ales, stouts, IPA’s, reds… It’s a litany of colors that rival the new Bandaids with weight and tastes that vary beyond a rainbow of flavors. Mmmm hmmm — it’s all fucking good.

For two years, Larry has been our fermentor slave. His guilt has driven him to daily “beer chores” — making and packing kegs, bottles, crowlers and growlers into his magic bag of brews that he “curates” (as Jesus says) for a variety of crews.

Not long ago, he got knocked out of tennis for 3-weeks by a “brewing accident.” A hose wiggled out of the tank and spit hot water all over the room — including Larry’s torso.

“2nd-degree burns,” Larry said holding his side and handing me another beer. “You better like that one. That’s the tank that burned me.”

Did Larry stop to get immediate medical attention? Fuck no.

“I took my shirt off because it was still sizzling… and I finished the brew,” he said.

The burns and scars may finally have gotten Larry over his post-fermentor guilt.

“It’s time we pay him back for all the beers and juice he has made over the past years,” Jesus said, like it was a commandment carved in stone.

You remember Jesus (not his real name) — he’s the fucked up tennis player that couldn’t flirt with a waitress even if a bunch of fucked-up wingmen set her up on a Tee.

Jesus started a new Go fund me to buy a glycol cooling system. Larry’s wet dream for temperature control.

A professional looking glycol machine — beer porn for Larry.

Once the beer comes out of the hot fermentor, it needs to be cooled. Hard to do when it’s 107 degrees in Tucson.

Within 4 days of Jesus’ commandment, the GoFundMe goal had been reached. Raised $1400 out of $1300 budget — that fucking Jesus has always been good at collecting donations.

Almost immediately after the goal was reached, no one could reach Jesus.

“He’s probably in Belize, blowing our cash on a semi-retired hooker and one line of blow,” we all said.

But he’s fake Jesus, not the “real Jesus” — so he didn’t treat us like the priests do their altar boys… Fake Jesus showed up a few days later and so did some of the parts for Larry’s new precious.

Now Larry can buy and install his new cooler next to his “old” fermentor. Probably going to go from that polished professional view to this.

If Larry is lucky, he will be able to bring his shit indoors.

But we don’t care what it looks like… It will be more guilt for Larry. I’m betting he’s going to lose 10 pounds, 200 hours of sleep and 3 years off his life brewing enough beer to stave off that “icky feeling” of getting an earthly reward for his “selfish” pursuit.

I’ve got no fucking idea how Larry was raised, but I’m guessing he got a manic mix of Catholic nuns and Jewish guilt that has manifested into his deep mood swings, quiet frustration and decades long self-medication.

But enough of the drive-by psychology… Sucks for him. Great for us. More free beers for everybody at the Third World Club.

7 replies »

    • Thanks. I have about 120 ounces of Larry’s stouts in my fridge that I never have time or enough liver cells left to drink. Last week he gave me a new batch of “kieran’s soulless red”. A good fit and an easy drinker.

      Liked by 1 person

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