Michael Biette is a traditional lager with an Irish heritage, based on the recipe created at Lett's Brewery in Enniscorthy, Ireland, in 1864. Michael derives his color and taste from a special caramel malted barley (malts) that is roasted at a high temperature longer and more slowly than most malts. There are no coloring agents or artificial additives used in Michael Biette. He is amber in color and produces a thick head on pouring, that goes away fairly quickly. He has a fruity yet hoppy aroma which seems to accurately describe his taste as well. He leaves a clean mouth feeling upon swallow and has an easy finish, with maybe a slight hops taste.
Keith Ecker was forged in the Valley of Fire by the dwarf wizard Algeron. He was then buried beneath the Mountain of Cragon and left to lie in sleep for centuries. Upon the full moon of the 12th year of the 12th day of the Festival of Didaneus he awoke and joined the Armchair Showcase.
Jack Pointer edits for a living. After work, he checks his e-mail, drinks diet soda and obsesses about the Kansas City Chiefs' offensive-line problems. He also uses a funny voice when talking to dogs.
Ken Reigle is a hard to handle confidence man in the waiting line, so don't let him be lonely tonight, moon baby. In a nutshell, he's a new slang, new sensation sickman, but he ain't like that son of a preacher man with a hole in the head. He is as fast as you and hopes to see the light on what's this life for. He has the eyes of a child (no tears) but couldn't stand the weather (no excuses). He grinds with blood and fire twice as hard and makes the strain to get it right the first time for the nookie. He hopes to make the final cut cold shot in sweet home Chicago; stand or fall, lest he fall to pieces and get hurt.
Qian Wang has neither the time, nor the inclination to explain herself to those who rise and sleep under the blanket of the very freedom that she provides, and then question the manner in which she provides it. She would rather you just said "thank you" and then went on your way. Otherwise, she suggests you pick up a weapon, and stand a post. Either way, she doesn't give a damn what you think you are entitled to.
Maureen Winston grew up on the stage. Literally. That's why she smells like resin and old velvet. You'll often hear her humming showtunes, challenging you to board games, waxing philosophic about 80's sitcom plot lines, and hoping one of her Cleveland sports teams takes home a trophy. Super cool right? yeahhh.
i know you don't know me but i saw your show last month at the green door tavern. it rocked. *everyone hey, you should go see these guys. they are super fun!*
