The way beer ( hoarding) changes people

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thebrewracho

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Do you know of someone who used to be really cool, but all of sudden they became Griddy and maybe became a d i c k ? I think hoarding beer acts like a magnifying glass, the same way money and power influences a human being.

I've met some really cool people , whom I used to share beers with and now they are not the same. Also, there's certain amount of beer you really need to trade and share. When I see photos of people stacking cases of beer or train of bottles...honestly that's the moment when it's not fun anymore. Beer is supposed to be shares and not be a dickswinging show.

Any stories?
 
Do you know of someone who used to be really cool, but all of sudden they became Griddy and maybe became a d i c k ? I think hoarding beer acts like a magnifying glass, the same way money and power influences a human being.

I've met some really cool people , whom I used to share beers with and now they are not the same. Also, there's certain amount of beer you really need to trade and share. When I see photos of people stacking cases of beer or train of bottles...honestly that's the moment when it's not fun anymore. Beer is supposed to be shares and not be a dickswinging show.

Any stories?
I know a guy, eventually realized he's a homie. Not sure if because beer or personality.
 
Do you know of someone who used to be really cool, but all of sudden they became Griddy and maybe became a d i c k ? I think hoarding beer acts like a magnifying glass, the same way money and power influences a human being.

I've met some really cool people , whom I used to share beers with and now they are not the same. Also, there's certain amount of beer you really need to trade and share. When I see photos of people stacking cases of beer or train of bottles...honestly that's the moment when it's not fun anymore. Beer is supposed to be shares and not be a dickswinging show.

Any stories?

thebandit1
 
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My buddy Joe and I had been friends from 10 years old; we did everything together, including drinking our first beers, Crazy Horse 40s. After college, we started drinking better beer, found out about trading and, eventually, began dabbling in cellaring. At first it was just occasionally buying an extra beer or two at the store or a case at a new release, but where I would eventually drink, trade or give mine away, he just kept saving and collecting, saving and collecting. He became irritable and standoffish. He hired migrant workers to attend releases with him and spent his savings on a conversion van to stockpile cases of Heady Topper. I tried to tell him he was changing, but he wouldnt listen. Soon his appearance began to change, his teeth started falling out, his hair began to thin and he developed sores all over. He lost his job, his family and, sadly, me as his friend.

The last I heard he was living in an abandoned mine shaft in West Virginia, all alone; just him and his complete run of Stone Vertical Epic ales...
 
My buddy Joe and I had been friends from 10 years old; we did everything together, including drinking our first beers, Crazy Horse 40s. After college, we started drinking better beer, found out about trading and, eventually, began dabbling in cellaring. At first it was just occasionally buying an extra beer or two at the store or a case at a new release, but where I would eventually drink, trade or give mine away, he just kept saving and collecting, saving and collecting. He became irritable and standoffish. He hired migrant workers to attend releases with him and spent his savings on a conversion van to stockpile cases of Heady Topper. I tried to tell him he was changing, but he wouldnt listen. Soon his appearance began to change, his teeth started falling out, his hair began to thin and he developed sores all over. He lost his job, his family and, sadly, me as his friend.

The last I heard he was living in an abandoned mine shaft in West Virginia, all alone; just him and his complete run of Stone Vertical Epic ales...

Liked for Crazy Horse 40s.
 
meh... I think some people change. Sure. I think most people are who they are and you just didn't notice at first until you were on the outside looking in...

I also think that some people are bitter though... why would anyone posting pics of their beers bother you? What if they share those beers?
 
Lotta hobbies folks end up being consumed by the collecting thing and their friends who don't share it get shunned or leave
 
Do you know of someone who used to be really cool, but all of sudden they became Griddy and maybe became a d i c k ? I think hoarding beer acts like a magnifying glass, the same way money and power influences a human being.

I've met some really cool people , whom I used to share beers with and now they are not the same. Also, there's certain amount of beer you really need to trade and share. When I see photos of people stacking cases of beer or train of bottles...honestly that's the moment when it's not fun anymore. Beer is supposed to be shares and not be a dickswinging show.

Any stories?
This is one of the stupidest things I've ever read on this site, and I've read a lot of stupid ****.
 
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This is one of the stupidest things I've ever read on this site, and I've read a lot of stupid ****.
Apparently I'm not the only one who has also witnessed these scenarios . Respect your opinion, but **** happens
 
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This is one of the stupidest things I've ever read on this site, and I've read a lot of stupid ****.

If you think this isnt an issue, then you just arent paying attention. Take a look at this chart I found on BA, detailing the amount of people who have lost loved ones to beer hording. Time to wake up people!

chart_zpsx4zwmlz0.jpg
 
My buddy Joe and I had been friends from 10 years old; we did everything together, including drinking our first beers, Crazy Horse 40s. After college, we started drinking better beer, found out about trading and, eventually, began dabbling in cellaring. At first it was just occasionally buying an extra beer or two at the store or a case at a new release, but where I would eventually drink, trade or give mine away, he just kept saving and collecting, saving and collecting. He became irritable and standoffish. He hired migrant workers to attend releases with him and spent his savings on a conversion van to stockpile cases of Heady Topper. I tried to tell him he was changing, but he wouldnt listen. Soon his appearance began to change, his teeth started falling out, his hair began to thin and he developed sores all over. He lost his job, his family and, sadly, me as his friend.

The last I heard he was living in an abandoned mine shaft in West Virginia, all alone; just him and his complete run of Stone Vertical Epic ales...

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My buddy Joe and I had been friends from 10 years old; we did everything together, including drinking our first beers, Crazy Horse 40s. After college, we started drinking better beer, found out about trading and, eventually, began dabbling in cellaring. At first it was just occasionally buying an extra beer or two at the store or a case at a new release, but where I would eventually drink, trade or give mine away, he just kept saving and collecting, saving and collecting. He became irritable and standoffish. He hired migrant workers to attend releases with him and spent his savings on a conversion van to stockpile cases of Heady Topper. I tried to tell him he was changing, but he wouldnt listen. Soon his appearance began to change, his teeth started falling out, his hair began to thin and he developed sores all over. He lost his job, his family and, sadly, me as his friend.

The last I heard he was living in an abandoned mine shaft in West Virginia, all alone; just him and his complete run of Stone Vertical Epic ales...



I'm right here man. I miss you. I'm sorry.

I donated all my beer to help with different LIFs. I can see kids my kids again. My wife is still a little hesitant to talk to me but she's warming up.

Heh. I also got my teeth fixed.


You wanna grab a coffee and chat?
 
If you think this isnt an issue, then you just arent paying attention. Take a look at this chart I found on BA, detailing the amount of people who have lost loved ones to beer hording. Time to wake up people!

chart_zpsx4zwmlz0.jpg
My favorite part of this is that it appears that the jump first happened it what would appear to be 1994. I was first skeptical of this chart due to its incendiary nature, but now I believe it. Dave tickers gotta tick Dave.
 
Sure it starts innocently enough. Maybe you want to hold onto that Breakfast Stout for a few months to see how it changes. That Old Rasputin could use a bit of age, sure. Next thing you know your waking up surrounded by 10 year old brewery only IPAs with barely any room to get dressed. You open your fridge for milk, but see nothing but milk stouts. When was the last time you had actual food in a fridge? It gets hard to remember...

Your days become a hazy reality, everything feels so ethereal. You vaguely remember hitting F5 at 3AM on your secret facebook trading groups trying to lock down a 2006 Maple Bacon Voodoo Doughnut. Some part of you, some single shred of your humanity buried deep down inside of you knows that the beer is no good, but you push it aside as you always do and continue to hit refresh.

Nothing else matters anymore, only the hunt, only the tick. Your family, your friends, they are all just obstacles in your way now. You maintain a facade however, but you're constantly late for work and a single paycheck away from living in your 1992 Roadmaster scouring the cities for free wifi.

I've seen it happen all too many times in my day, don't let it happen to your friends. If you know someone who has a hoarding problem act now before it's too late.
 
Ha. Variety. I go back and forth.
What the ****? What the **** do you think this is, some kind of "come as you may" relationship?
I haven't seen you post in a while...you've been off gallivanting with that floozy of a TB avatar haven't you? HAVEN'T YOU? LOOK AT ME!
Go ahead Hayden, have your fun. I'll be waiting for you.
I'm sorry... I can't do it!
 
If you call me a hoarder, you're out of your ****ing gourd. I drink and share my beer.

You're forgetting the part about driving to Vermont and picking up a van full of Heady Topper and HF growlers while simultaneously pissing off all the locals and forcing the breweries to change the way they sell their beer.
 
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My buddy Joe and I had been friends from 10 years old; we did everything together, including drinking our first beers, Crazy Horse 40s. After college, we started drinking better beer, found out about trading and, eventually, began dabbling in cellaring. At first it was just occasionally buying an extra beer or two at the store or a case at a new release, but where I would eventually drink, trade or give mine away, he just kept saving and collecting, saving and collecting. He became irritable and standoffish. He hired migrant workers to attend releases with him and spent his savings on a conversion van to stockpile cases of Heady Topper. I tried to tell him he was changing, but he wouldnt listen. Soon his appearance began to change, his teeth started falling out, his hair began to thin and he developed sores all over. He lost his job, his family and, sadly, me as his friend.

The last I heard he was living in an abandoned mine shaft in West Virginia, all alone; just him and his complete run of Stone Vertical Epic ales...


Actually you know what...its been awhile, lets get together and grab some Crazy Horse, you know for old times sake, maybe some blow, couple hookers too.


It'll be a great time.

The hookers can get us more allocations and the blow can keep us up all night in line.


****! Can you help? I'm shaking. Please.


Please.


Hold me.
 
What the ****? What the **** do you think this is, some kind of "come as you may" relationship?
I haven't seen you post in a while...you've been off gallivanting with that floozy of a TB avatar haven't you? HAVEN'T YOU? LOOK AT ME!
Go ahead Hayden, have your fun. I'll be waiting for you.
I'm sorry... I can't do it!
Jesus Christ, woman. There. Ya ****in' happy? You are the most demanding ***** I have ever met in all my days.
 
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