That limit is bull testicle beer.
Their soon-to-be-released-nationally, Rocky Mountain Oyster Stout, has a few, let's call them, obstacles I'm having some trouble overcoming. Honestly it's not just the two big ones you might thinking about, either. It's more than the simple shock and awe of it. We're basically talking about meat beer, here. It's not just the ball part that's disturbing (well, it is, but that's not the whole of it.) I don't think I could get behind a ground chuck or brisket beer either. A little beer mixed into ground beef, yeah that might be pretty tasty in a Big Kahuna Burger, but not so much the other way around. Hot dogs are good. Beer is good. Hot dog beer—not so good. Throw in a reproductive organ and I'm out.
Some of you may object to the gimmickiness of the whole endeavor—like its canned, two-pack packaging. That doesn't bother me in the least—rain gonna' fall, wind gonna' blow, and breweries gonna' try and sell beer. How effective will that gimmick be? Game of Thrones ale versus bull gonad beer—seems like a no-brainer, to me.
The Stout may be wonderful—superb in fact. I know I said that I'm am an open-minded beer drinker, but I have decided to abstain from this one. It's easy to abstain when you're vomiting. I think Jules Winnfield has an appropriate quote for this situation:
Hey, sewer rat may taste like pumpkin pie, but I'd never know 'cause I wouldn't eat the filthy motherfucker.
I can't agree more.
So, call me close-minded, but I'll stick with the other kind of beer nuts.