Beck’s Dark

AFFORDABILITY: At least where I lay my head, Beck’s and Beck’s Dark are on the lower end of the high-end of the beer aisle. So if you’re gonna go over to some fancy fucks house to eat shit like boneless chicken breasts wrapped in bacon with some fucking sauce and asparagus or snow peas or some shit, this is the perfect beer to bring for them to drink with you. 3 out of 5.

DESTROYABILITY: I enjoy a Beck’s Dark buzz, and I enjoy the taste of getting towards that buzz. I have memories of it putting me on tilt, but this could be because of me regularly getting 12-packs of it for me and the ol’ lady to sit around on a Saturday night playing Parcheesi while listening to Hank Williams III, which of course, is all a polite precursor between us to start acting like teenagers in a dorm room on the living room floor. 4 out of 5.
LABEL AESTHETIC: Nothing super-special, but there’s sort of hidden lines in the background, and plus some crazy key in a crest on it. Also, foreign words, and it has that wonderful foil label at the top of the bottle if you are the nervous type who likes to be picking at shit all the time. I think regular Beck’s has silver foil, but Beck’s Dark has gold foil, and I bet if I was more careful about removing it in the summertime when the humidity causes bottle sweat that loosens the glue, I could make a nifty folk art diorama of the West Virginia state capital building. 3 out of 5.
CORPORATE MASTER: Straight up, it’s a product of Germany, and imported by Beck’s America with a listed address in Norwalk, CT. Motherfuckers ain’t fuckin’ around, although Germany and Connecticut ain’t exactly the heritage of folks that I like to share my cup of tea with. 4 out of 5.
OVERALL AMBIANCE: It’s hard for me to find fault with it. Were I a richer dude, this’d be the beer I drank 9 of each night. As it stands, it’s close enough in price for me to drink 9 of a week while I fill in the gaps with cheap cans of bloodstream corrector. 4 out of 5.
TOTAL RATING: 3 and 3/5 stars!