The rumble of student shitboxes returning to Otago; freshers and breathers sinking piss hand over fist; littered streets strewn with eggshells. Nature is healing.
These scenes are nothing uncommon for the students of North D, as they gear up for their Flo and O Weeks. Fourteen days of debaucherous filth, powered solely by brown liquor and capsules of mystery powder. A bender of this magnitude will turn your bowel movements into a crude oil refinery, prompting one to wonder: how can I avoid this fate?
The answer: Boundary Road Brewery’s ‘Haze of Our Lives’ Hazy Pale Ale, a beer so fruity that it practically counts as your five-a-day. It’s essentially drinking a fruit salad. Unfortunately, like all other healthy things these days, Haze of Our Lives does not meet the golden standard ($1 per standard, duh!) that we all strive toward. That being said, this beer is considerably cheap while on special.
Now, not only does the beer taste like innocence, but it’ll have all the Castle Street boys saying, “Oh, he cute” as you sip away can after can. Garner respect from your peers as they see you’re trying new things, and looking good doing it. Escape the fat, clammy grip of craft beer know-it-all-ism spewing from fedora-wearing flatmates and embrace being the fun, cute, BRB-drinking twink you always were.
BRB’s Hazy is perfect for those bogans looking to graduate from Speights. It ticks all the necessary boxes: an inoffensive flavour, the ability to drink twelve cans without budging, and the ability to substitute it for a personality of your own. Your average teenage idiot will feel at home with this brew. Whether you plan to binge, sip, or send it down a funnel in a stranger’s living room, Haze of Our Lives is a versatile beer that begs your attention. This ale is a cousin to water, and will grace you without severe hangovers, allowing the festivities to wage on. While the rest of the bourbon boyos in your flat battle over dry toast, you will gleefully load up the beer bong, declaring “we awn”.
But to drink a beer of substance is to leave yourself vulnerable to weight gain. You’re going to get fat at uni regardless of how many Summit Ultra’s you drink, so get fat by drinking something worthwhile. The bloat is inevitable; enjoy the Haze as you fill out your baggiest Hawaiian shirt, and deal with the consequences later.
Tasting notes: Tropical fruit, like alcoholic raro served from an 11-year-old’s cupped hands.
Chugabillity: Extremely easy, no more than two chugs of a pint glass.
Hangover depression level: Light on the head, heavier on the tummy. Walk it off, champ.
Overall: 9/10, conquer this aesthetic brew.