Birds of a Feather, I’ve Heard

My brother and I have a “healthy” competitive relationship. Growing up we always played basketball against one another, and the series would go back and forth. The last time we played, it was the first one to score 21 points, using ones and twos. We play that you have to win by at least three points, so the game doesn’t end right when it’s getting good. We ended up playing until almost 40 points, but in the end, I beat him. I posted up in the paint and walked him down like clockwork. Big brother for the win.

Recently, he just bought a Subaru BRZ. I don’t know if you are familiar with the Scion FR-S, but that’s what I drive. They look identical, and he thinks his car is faster when it really isn’t. We haven’t made it out to a legit track yet, but that’s definitely on the soon-to-do list.

We always try to show each other the next best thing. Lately, we’ve been exploring different beers, and it’s been really nice. We choose a style of beer, pick up a couple of different six packs, and sample a bunch. It’s been a great hobby for the weekend, and there’s enough beer that it doesn’t feel so competitive. If there’s a good beer, we always split it up three and three, and sometimes if I’m lucky, I’ll enjoy a beer that he doesn’t like and I get four of them. Sometimes we buy beers we like by the growler, and my brother showed me this awesome setup he has in his garage that serves beer out of a tap. I couldn’t let him be the only one to have this. Just like our cars, now we both have one!

The worst beer we’ve tried so far was this jalapeno IPA craft beer that tasted like trash. I don’t even remember what the brewery was called, but it has some sorta demon looking thing on the front of the can. If you see that, DON’T BUY IT. I’ve never had a beer that I couldn’t finish until I tried that one. Seriously, I don’t even think you could call it a beer. The drink was spicy, which I expected, but there was hardly any hoppy flavor and it was altogether a really bad blend of low-quality ingredients.

Craft beer isn’t cheap, and that six-pack cost me ten bucks. The worst part was that I picked it out and my brother just laughed at me. We each opened one can, didn’t finish it, and shook the rest up and shot ’em with a BB gun. Normally, I would have taken the bullet before I let a beer get wasted like that, but then again, I’m pretty sure this wasn’t even beer. I never imagined anything sold as a beer could ever be so awful, and it truly was a low point in my life and a loss of innocence.

Now that football season is in full swing, I’ve got my Sunday’s figured out. Wake up, get everything I need to get done for the day finished first, and then kick back and trash-talk my brother’s team. It’s actually a great way to pass the time, and we’ve been watching it at my house lately. He has a great sound system, but I’ve got the bigger television.

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