#melvin tart

[melvintart8]

Melvin Tart

Melvin Tart begins his fourth season as wide receivers coach at Jones County Junior College. Tart comes to JCJC from Pearl River Community College after spending seven years there as a volunteer assistant coach. During that time, he coached wide receivers, running backs and coached quarterbacks for one year. He coached on the 2005 and 2006 MACJC state championship teams and the 2006 national runnerup team. Tart graduated from Hattiesburg High School in 2001. He was a three-year letterman in football and a standout performer in track. He played football at PRCC after graduating from Hattiesburg. After graduating from PRCC, he transferred to the University of Southern Mississippi, where he received his BS degree in exercise science in December of 2005. He received his master’s in sports management in August of 2010.

Melvin Tart Kenosha WI

[lagolagomorph]

Things DQ characters would get you for your birthday- a thread

Alef: a yellow flower

Gwelyn: a nice tart she baked herself

Middenhall: a nice card

Cannock: a sticky hand

Moonbrooke: a webkinz

Erdrik: exactly what you asked for

Solo: a flower bracelet

Sofia: a flower crown

Alena: weights/protein powder

Borya: a book. (Not a good one)

Kiryl: a locket with Alena's picture in it

Meena: a charm

Maya: a lil kiss

Torneko: he would share his lunch and invite you to his home to meet his family

Ragnar: one of those tin whistles

Psaro: a stone he found

Rose: a braided bracelet

Madason/Five: a hand carved sabrecat

Bianca: a tasty pie

Nera: she would probably write a song for you but be too embarrassed to sing it

Deborah: her presence.

Parry: a cool rock

Madchen: a pretty rock

Sancho: a hearty meal

Reck/Six: a handmade headband

Carver: a well made chair

Milly: a palm reading with tea

Ash: a makeover

Nevan: he doesn't really celebrate but maybe a rosary?

Terry: a small slime Statue (secretly)

Amos: he would take you out for a drink

Arus/Seven: a fish sandwich

Maribelle: a carefully made pastry

Kiefer: he would forget, but Lisette would help him make you a whetstone.

Gabo/Ruff: one of his loose teeth

Aishe: dancing lessons

Mervyn/Melvin: an old sword

Eight: some cheese he made

Yangus: a beer and a pat on the back

Jessica: a embroidered handkerchief

Angelo: himself.

Morrie: also himself (probably in a giant cake)

Red: nothing (but she might give you something for a trade)

Nine: they would just want you to be happy

Eleven: the sword you always wanted

Erik: a trinket he stole

Veronica: a friendship bracelet to match with Serena and you

Serena: again, friendship bracelet

Sylv: they would plan the party and make sure everything in it was your favorite thing

Jade: sparring lessons

Rab: a peek at his *collection*

Hendrik: he would like to spar please

[bluecoolr]

I AM FUCKING SCREAMING I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ANSWER TO @ajarofpickledtears 's ASK 😭😭😭😭

Cylas bb I'm so sorry 💙💙💙

Darrell isn't too fond of Christmas ever since he learned about the Council of Nicaea... but he loves to spend time with the people he loves so he's down to celebrating with them

Both overplayed 😭 if he could shoot the store speakers he would. He prefers The Carpenters' versions of christmas songs.

He likes it!

Loves that shit. Thinks it smells great. Thinks it's best in apple pie and pop tarts.

Oh he likes to bake. He's not so great at it but he thinks it's a great bonding experience.

He eats the dough when nobody's looking 😅

Totally loves both. He's embarrassed about his gifts because he worries it's not up to people's expectations.

Hell yeah he loves to sing! Watch him belt it out when he's all alone. Not a great dancer but it doesn't stop him.

He will for fun. 🧑‍🎄 Melvin made him wear one at work once during Christmas season. He had it on for so long he actually forgot he had it on.

If there's stuff I forgot to answer please drop me an ask!!!

[rhinokck]

Side by side of Citradamus Imperial IPA from Melvin Brewing out of Alpine, WY and Lost Resort Tropical IPA from Surly Brewing out of Minneapolis, MN. Citradamus was a much more traditional IPA flavor with a citrusy taste & hints of orange peel and pine. Lost Resort was very tart, especially on the finish. Described as a Tropical IPA with lime & pineapple added, this was more sour than a lot of beers described as a sour. That being said it was excellent, tropical & full flavored, but the tartness in the finish I would have labeled it a fruited sour more than a tropical IPA. I liked them both equally but the Melvin was more of what I expected from an IPA side by side.

[themelvorganization]

Chapter 5

Calm Before the Climb

George and Harold start their heroic journey up the mountain!

<< PREVIOUS // NEXT >>

[charlie-b-t]

Honestly, look how cute this tart is

[charlie-b-t]

whoops wrong account :x

i made new ponies the last couple days, just for fun

[dragonnan]

Small teaser of the new fic for 2021 that I’ve started working on.  This is in memory of my own dad - someone I loved dearly even if I never knew as much about his as I’d always wished.  He was not someone who ever easily shared abut himself - that just wasn’t his way.  But I knew he loved me and my mom and siblings.  That was never in question.

It maybe goes without saying but the character of Stephen’s dad, while maybe having some surface similarities (the skills and history as a farmer) that are shared with my dad but he isn’t meant to be a proxy.  In the end, this is a story about father’s and children and the complexity that can come from those relationships.

A final disclaimer - other than names and where they lived I know nothing about Stephen’s parents.  Everything I write in this fic will be my own interpretation - not the least of which that I’ve chosen to have Stephen’s dad still be alive.

_____

Untitled Doctor Strange Fic teaser:

Nothing had changed.

And that was both startling and expected... in a way.  But mostly it was comforting.  Years... decades... centuries had passed him by and yet the same post office sat on the corner.  The same family-owned general store was across the street – windows still painted with specials that had been special since he was a child.  The same movie theater with its peeling marquee – the same bakery filled with overpriced and over-baked pastries – the same department store stocked with garments a good decade out of fashion.  Still dark but there was no lack of traffic as owners and employees made their way to shops and businesses.  One older man – Stephen thought his name was Danny... no, Donald, waved and smiled before unlocking the front door to a carpet and flooring shop.  

He could lift any day from his childhood and it would look just like this.

His exhale carried visibly through the air – the chill setting off a shiver and making him miss his robes – the cloak in particular.  This wasn't the sort of adventure where a cloak was needed, however, beyond warmth of course.  In fact the only arcane item he'd brought with was his sling ring.  He could be anywhere in the world in seconds, if needed.  So why was he walking? Certainly Wong had been the small voice in his head asking the question for the last five minutes.  But, truthfully, he needed this time.  He wasn't certain what sort of welcome he'd find at the end of his walk and, if he took enough time, there was always a chance he'd be summoned back to the Sanctum well before he arrived.  

He wasn't sure if that wouldn't be better, overall...

Stephen was half an hour beyond the town, sticking to the verge and surrounded primarily by fields, when he revisited the wisdom of his choices.  He was vibrantly aware that a slip of the ring could have him at the end of his journey.  He should have left later in the day.  To be fair it was easy enough to forget when the sun rose in Nebraska.  It was easy to forget a lot of things – even with an eidetic memory.  

Why was he doing this?

The watch on his wrist was a far cheaper model than the one, sitting on his bedside table, back at the Sanctum.  However, it had the benefit of actually functioning. Nearly 6:15, now; the sun would be up in a little over an hour.  His destination, however, was at the end of the driveway just ahead. Stephen blew on his hands before starting down the gravel path.

Carefully cultivated red pines lined either side of the narrow road.  They'd begun to go a bit wild, though, in the decade since his last visit.  Outside lights, ahead, gave him glimpses of the two-story structure that had changed color ever four or five years when he was young.  First white, then an unfortunate yellow, then finally red.  One last turn and he could finally take in the entirety of the property.

The apple trees had grown.  That shouldn't have surprised him and yet...  And each branch was heavy with ripe fruit – some already scattered on the ground.  God he could still taste Mom's pies.  He could remember the tradition of canning them every Autumn... right around this time, actually.  Steam adding a weighty humidity to the kitchen – his mother's arms red from the heat that rose around glass jars suspended in the hot water. The smell of fruit and spice.  Stephen plucked an apple – brushing it against his shirt before biting into the flesh.  Juice dribbled down his chin and he squinted at the tart twist of flavor – cool sweetness following and he wiped at the stickiness caught in his goatee.  He chewed as he walked – bypassing the house for the barn near the back woods.

Once upon a time cattle had moved through the pastureland set just beyond the fencing that separated it from the trimmed lawn.  But cattle hadn't roamed the hills since before he'd achieved his doctorate.  Too much income lost between disease and predation.  Tossing his core towards the treeline, Stephen was lifting his hand to the massive sliding door when sudden barking made him hesitate.  There had always been dogs on the farm but he was a stranger, here, and he felt that realization cut sharp through his belly.  A muffled voice quieted the dog.  Work boots clumping across concrete carried through the thick wood and, moments later, the smaller side door creaked on hinges that likely hadn't been oiled since Stephen was a child.

An enormous black dog darted out onto the packed dirt surrounding the barn.  Stephen couldn't help smiling – recognizing the breed as Newfoundland.  Typical of the breed, the big animal approached amicably – tongue lolling out with no trace of aggression.

“Hey, boy...”  Kneeling, Stephen twisted his face away from the tongue that swiped towards his cheek – though it managed to lap across his ear.  A few rubs on the shaggy head and he pushed up again – aware of the silent form watching him.  Finally he returned the look.

“Hi, Dad.”

Eugene Melvin Strange looked at the son whom he hadn't spoken to, face to face, in nearly a decade.  Three years away from eighty but one wouldn't know it from his features. Only his hair gave it away – almost pure white save for some lead grey streaks near the temples.  Well after the moment between them had become awkward, he gestured towards the house.

“I could use a cup of coffee.  You planning to stay a while?”

Stephen nodded – one hand still stroking across the large dog's head.  “Yeah.  I was, uh, hoping we could...”

“Great.  Lock up the barn, would you? I'll go put the pot on.”  And with that, Eugene whistled the dog to his side and the two of them headed towards the house.  

Well that could have gone worse. Rather than simply lock the door, Stephen allowed curiosity to lead him inside.  Gone were the smells of animals – the wild mix of warm fur, hay, and oats that had always been so appealing.  He used to nibble at raw oats – the taste like seeds and fresh grass.  In its place was the powerful sharp tang of varnish and furniture stain; enough to trigger an involuntary sneeze.  Rubbing his nose, Stephen pressed forward – back towards the stalls that used to house the cattle as well as one disgruntled boar.  Now those spaces had been filled with tools and furniture in various states of completion.  A second sneeze was brought on by the sawdust that still hung in the air where his father had been at work with a table saw – trimming down lengths of wood that had some eventual purpose that he couldn't quite discern.  On the other side of the barn, completed pieces stood behind sheets of plastic that had clearly been hung to keep contaminants from settling on the freshly varnished surfaces.

Stephen could remember his father always having some interest in furniture building.  He'd build a secretary for Stephen's mother for their 25th wedding anniversary.  Beverly Strange had used that secretary often – both as a place to draft letters as well as work on her stories.  She had never quite managed to publish anything but she had completed five manuscripts before she had taken ill.

Another sneeze hit sharp across his sinuses so Stephen called an end to his explorations – locking the outside door and following the path to the house.

[zerogate]

We’ve all talked about the wind. The wind blows. Now, our language has subjects and verbs, to indicate two different entities: actor and action. The boy runs. Boy is the actor and runs is the action he performs. Wind is the actor and blows is the action it performs. But when the boy gets tired of running, he can take a time-out, sit down, enjoy a refreshing beverage, and we still see him sitting there. Where is the wind when it stops blowing? That’s right: it’s nowhere. There is no entity, no doer separate from the doing; it’s a linguistic fiction. What we call wind is none other than the activity of blowing. But by tagging it with a noun, we’ve tarted it up as a thing. This conjuring up of things where they don’t exist is called reification, literally “thingification.” In the case of the wind, if it blows really hard we reify it further, call it Hurricane Melvin, and listen to news commentators describe how Melvin has unleashed his fury on the Dominican Republic and has now set his sights on the Florida Keys. 

Now please consider the possibility that mind is like wind. (Just turn the first letter upside down.) Apart from blowing, wind doesn’t exist. Apart from thinking, mind doesn’t exist; it’s a product of reification. There is no monkey. And that’s why this discussion is not just armchair philosophy: it has the most practical of bottom lines. When you set out to track the monkey, catch the monkey, tame the monkey, shock the monkey—whatever—you’re doomed to failure. You will never, ever, ever catch a monkey that doesn’t exist. You’re chasing a ghost. The harder you chase it, the more reality you give it—the more convincingly you reify it. And that’s good news. It means you can call off the expedition and relax. You’ve been chasing mental activity. And what is this “chasing” stuff? It’s more mental activity. Activity has been chasing activity, like a dog chasing its tail. There’s nothing to do now but have a good laugh.

-- Dean Sluyter, Natural Meditation

[melvintart8]

Melvin Tart

Melvin Tart begins his fourth season as wide receivers coach at Jones County Junior College. Tart comes to JCJC from Pearl River Community College after spending seven years there as a volunteer assistant coach. During that time, he coached wide receivers, running backs and coached quarterbacks for one year. He coached on the 2005 and 2006 MACJC state championship teams and the 2006 national runnerup team. Tart graduated from Hattiesburg High School in 2001. He was a three-year letterman in football and a standout performer in track. He played football at PRCC after graduating from Hattiesburg. After graduating from PRCC, he transferred to the University of Southern Mississippi, where he received his BS degree in exercise science in December of 2005. He received his master’s in sports management in August of 2010.

Melvin Tart Kenosha WI

[melvintart]

https://www.classifiedads.com/advertising/67x28yn9w3db2

Melvin Tart begins his fourth season as wide receivers coach at Jones County Junior College. Tart comes to JCJC from Pearl River Community College after spending seven years there as a volunteer assistant coach. During that time, he coached wide receivers, running backs and coached quarterbacks for one year. He coached on the 2005 and 2006 MACJC state championship teams and the 2006 national runnerup team. Tart graduated from Hattiesburg High School in 2001. He was a three-year letterman in football and a standout performer in track. He played football at PRCC after graduating from Hattiesburg. After graduating from PRCC, he transferred to the University of Southern Mississippi, where he received his BS degree in exercise science in December of 2005. He received his master’s in sports management in August of 2010.

[projazznet]

Melvin Sparks – Sparks! (Full Album)

Sparks! is the debut album by soul jazz guitarist Melvin Sparks recorded for the Prestige label in 1970.

“A solid soul-jazz outing that looks to commercial material for the bulk of the set, but doesn’t unduly compromise itself in a pop direction. Sparks was one of the bluesiest soul-jazz guitarists, and his tart tone shares space here with deep grooves from Leon Spencer on organ. The brass, handled by Virgil Jones (trumpet) Houston Person (tenor sax), and John Manning (tenor sax) is usually secondary to the guitar-organ riffs. Sparks remakes Sly Stone’s “Thank You,” the Coasters’ “Charlie Brown,” and Eric Burdon and War’s “Spill the Wine” as lengthy instrumentals — commercial choices, to be sure, but executed with relaxed grit. Rounding out the program is a Rodgers & Hart cover and a Leon Spencer original. The entire album is available on the Legends of Acid Jazz CD reissue, which also includes his 1971 follow-up, Spark Plug.” – Richie Unterberger/AllMusic.

[still-single]

HEATHEN DISCO 3/24/2019

Here you go!

Tracklist below.

Tsege Mariam Gebru - The Homeless Wanderer

Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes - Don't Leave Me This Way

ORS - Moon-Boots

Gina X Performance - No G.D.M.

Happy Mondays - Tart Tart

Sacred Lamp - Sunlight and Seeds

REQ - 5pm Traffic

Mini Dresses - I'd Notice

Danielle Dax - Funtime

Crete - Prayers

The Wake - Host

Grauzone - Moskau

The Kids - Comin' Around

The Comet Is Coming - Super Zodiac

Parliament - Little Ole Country Boy

Eddie Kendricks - Girl, You Need a Change of Mind

Central Line - Walking into Sunshine

The Justified Ancients of Mu Mu - Whitney Joins the JAMS

Star Band de Dakar - Andano

Ministry - Revenge

Camouflage - The Great Commandment

The Fall - U.S. '80s-'90s

Mission of Burma - Peking Spring

Josef K - Heaven Sent

The Gotobeds - Calquer the Hound

Hash Redactor - Good Sense

Low Life - Glamour

Ill Considered - Gunning

For Against - Daylight

Brett Smiley - (Diamonds) Couldn't Bring You Back

Possible Humans - The Thumps

Anne Clark - Sleeper in Metropolis

Cerca - Rose Minor

Sleeper and Snake - Junction and High 1

Patience - The Girls Are Chewing Gum

Mathematiques Modernes - Disco Rough

[nickskeyboards]

Rum Runner house band, Duran Duran: 15 March 1981

Photographer Christopher Cormack ventured into the Rum Runner on Broad Street, Birmingham, the nightclub at the heart of a glamorous new scene.

Nine o’clock on a Saturday evening in Birmingham: Alyson and Alison, two chirpy student nurses, take the number 130 bus from their hostel in Ladywood to the Rum Runner club in Broad Street. They are dressed – to the noisy incredulity of their fellow passengers – as “a princess and a Chinese tart” and they look stunning.

Outside the club they mingle with a burgeoning procession which files through the neon-lit doorway fronting the shadowy alley down to the entrance. The scene resembles a surrealists’ social or the aftermath of a guerrilla raid on a theatrical costumier. There are pirates, clowns with painted faces, boys in full evening dress or puritan ruffs, girls in ballgowns and angular homemade shifts, boys in self-designed skirts.

Just around the corner from the Holiday Inn holding office parties for secretaries and men in chain-store suits, a saturnalia is apparently in the offing. In fact, a disparate bunch of young people are seeking a place where they can dress in an unabashed celebration of sartorial fantasy, and enjoy the bright danceable rock music which is dispelling the post-punk gloom. “It’s a great feeling,” says Melvin, a black clothes designer in white leather mini-skirt and tails.

Like most of his fellow revellers, Melvin is reluctant to put a name to the moment; he simply says it’s “modern, different, weird”. Outsiders, usually taking a stance of stiff-upper-lipped suspicion, have tried to foist titles on the clubgoers: the New Romantics, the Glitterati, Futurists, Poseurs, The Cult With No Name, the Blitz kids (after the best known London venue for such goings-on). None has stuck.

Extract from the feature by Steve Taylor

(Source) The Guardian 10 March 2018

Finally a close up of 19 year old Nick with the Prophet-5! :)

[wittypenguin]

Zodiac (2007)

So… very… long… But this film — unlike The Good The Bad and The Ugly [read my review of that HERE] — justifies its length. There’s nothing I can point to of any length which is chaff to be separated from the necessary elements of the story. But, dear Lord, this is another film I can go down the proverbial rabbit’s hole of, examining tiny bits of evidence, looking for patterns…

It’s 1969 and everything is perfectly presented as such. It’s not tarted up into some kind of Hollywood version of 1969. The guy is dorky, she has braces, the cars are older that the year.

The discussion with Melvin Belli in his home during the Christmas / New Year’s interregnum period is a fantastic piece of writing. He reads the letter, discusses its contents with police as a private communique but also admits he gave the text to the SF Chronicle. He speaks of Zodiac as crying to him personally for help, both through sending the letter and on the telephone directly to his home. “Wait, he called here?” the police ask. “Yes,” Belli replies, then explains his housekeeper took the call, as he was on safari at the time, then enquiring if the two detectives have been to Africa, encouraging them to do so as it’s wild, beautiful, sav- “Did he say where he was calling from?” the police interrupt. “No, he didn’t leave his number,” is Belli’s reply. “Yeah, he’s crafty like that” is the detective’s response. All of that in less than 30 seconds. It’s amazing dialogue, and efficiently delineates the worlds which have been brought together through this one insane person’s control.

More than anything, thus film really illustrates the relentless passage of time during which Zodiac captured the imagination of newspapers and the growing live TV medium with their campaign of terror.

Jake Gyllenhaal is so great. He’s got this open, almost childlike face, he’s questioning everything in front of him throughout the story. It’s important than he never says “yes, I am positive that [X] is true! Why can none of you see this‽” because in this story, even today, we cannot be positive about anything. Even when he is saying what he truly believes, there’s still an incredulousness about his delivery that says what he’s saying doesn’t make sense to him either and couldn’t the other person in the scene sort it out for him, please?

I watched the film, then two documentaries on the second disc: “This is Zodiac Speaking,” which covers the hard evidence of four of the murders, including interviews with investigators and the two survivors; as well as “His Name Was Arthur Leigh Allen,” which concentrated more on the suspect of greatest interest in the investigation, and the one the film focuses itself upon. After all of that — just shy of five hours of material — I had no idea if the man named was responsible for the killings or if he was merely someone who accidentally fit the profile. Then I watched the film again, but with director David Fincher’s commentary, and heard Mr Fincher dance around the issue that the film ‘says Mr Allen did it’ by saying, basically, that’ we really don’t know if he did it or not.’ Well, you just spent almost three hours saying he did, so it’s too little too late, isn’t it?

Chloë Sevigny is amazing. She’s trying to be supportive and continue to love her husband, but she just quietly decides at some point that she’s had enough. There isn’t anything big about it, there’s no declaration or facial expression so blunt it could stop a truck, she just slowly and incrementally shuts down their relationship. Even when she gives him their divorce papers, she seems to do so with a sigh, having looked around the apartment and seen he is far more out of touch with the rest of the world than he was when she left him. Even then, she ends up handing him some documents which trigger his further digging for the Truth and for Justice.

This whole film, the story of Zodiac, and those who have pursued it, is all about obsession. To have one of modern cinema’s most obsessive directors make it makes perfect sense. For me to think it is perfect, also makes sense.

Because it is; perfect.

★★★★★

[nwbeerguide]

Celebrate the canning of Melvin's Heyzeus! Mexican-style Lager, at party near you, starting August 11th

Press Release

JACKSON, WY (August 2, 2017) — Fiesta, forever! Come on and session along with Melvin’s Mexican style lager, Hey Zeus!  Halfway between awesome and fantastico, Heyzeus delivers canned lightning with all-day drinkability and the great quality that beer geeks expect from the great Cerveceria de Melvin.  

Previously only available on tap, this lightning in a can couldn’t be contained! Thanks to nanotech and a nod from the beer gods, Melvin canned this moist miracle.  Using its expanding distribution network, Melvin brings Heyzeus to the masses of mortals thirsting for madness. Launching this month, Heyzeus is now available in convenient 12-ounce can six-packs.

“Step aside “Rosé All Day,” there’s a new day drinking compadre in town and his name is Heyzeus!” said Jeremy Tofte, Co-Founder, Melvin Brewing. “Crisp, refreshing and clocking in at a ridiculously sessionable ABV of 4.0%, I drink the living hell out of this beer.” 

Melvin Brewing, a past title holder of the Great American Beer Festival’s Small Brewpub Brewer of the Year, now gives fans of their Heyzeus Mexican-style lager a reason to throw the toga fiesta they’ve always dreamed of.  With bright floral aromatics, a dry, and balanced finish, this light-bodied, slightly tart lager was designed for easy drinking with your closest amigos. As Jeremy puts it, “Check your baggage at the door, because Heyzeus ain’t got time for Debbie Downers.” 

Now available for distribution in Washington, Colorado, Idaho, Oregon, Utah, Southern California, and Wyoming, Heyzeus joins the growing Melvin Brewing portfolio craft beers available for retail sale in cans, including 2x4 DIPA, Melvin IPA, Hubert MPA and Killer Bees. 

Launch events across the country beginning in mid August

IDAHO Friday, August 11th Launch Party Host: Pre Funk Boise Address: 1100 W Front Street, Boise Time: 6 p.m. onward Sword fighting with swords made of Heyzeus cans and duct tape. 

OREGON Friday, August 18th Host: Buckman Public House Address: 1310 SE Stark Street, Portland Time: 5 p.m. onward Pig Roast, Slip n Slides, Sand, Heyzeus cans, & Festive Music

WASHINGTON Friday, August 18th Host:  Special Brews Address: 14608 WA-99, Ste 307, Lynnwood, WA   Time:  11a.m.-9 p.m. Melvin Wallbangers: three raffles over the course of the day to run through a wall of empty beer cans, the biggest and best being the last.  "El Mago Mejor": an all day contest of customizing your very own wizard-staff to be voted on BY the staff of special brews.  And, of course, some very special chips n salsa arrangements.

COLORADO Friday, August 18th Host: Finn’s Manor, 2927 Larimer Street, Denver Time: 7 p.m. onward DJs spinning hip hop and Latin music mashups Plus, Melvin Brewing is now distributed by Breakthru Beverage throughout the state of Colorado.

About Melvin Brewing Melvin Brewing was founded in 2009 by Jeremy Tofte and Kirk McHale to fulfill their need to drink the biggest, most exciting West-Coast Style IPAs in Jackson, WY. Experimenting on a 30-gallon, then three-barrel brew house system, they developed the award-winning Melvin IPA and 2x4 Imperial IPA. Today, Melvin Brewing has a full-scale brewing facility in Alpine, WY, a brewpub in Bellingham, WA and more than 40 amazing beer recipes to its name, including a range of hoppy beers and other styles such as ChChCh-Cherry Bomb (Fruit Beer), Killer Bees (Honey Ale), Coffee Ruckus (Coffee Imperial Stout) and Wu’Wit (Belgian Wit). For more information visit, http://bit.ly/2vrmmBL;

from News - The Northwest Beer Guide http://bit.ly/2u1VaGh