Matt Carter

Photo by: Sean Fenzl

Let me shake your hand. I’m Matt. I drink craft beer. Welcome in, you glorious rebel, you.

Let’s start with a warning: while you’ll follow lusty advances towards craft beer here, it’s not a compendium of reviews. Other talented bloggers are already taking perfectly-lit photos and writing about IBUs and ABVs; I’m chasing after LOLs and OMGs in my never-ending search for the next strange brew.

My ‘a-ha moment’—where it all began—was a Shaftebury Paul & Tim’s ESB, enjoyed at an overcast patio barbeque overlooking Departure Bay Beach in the mid-1990s, accompanied by a bari sax player named Spidey and a trombone player named Stone Broker.

Since then, I’ve engaged in bottle shares in Cape Town and pub crawls in Charlottetown; played sax on Guinness-soaked streets for stag parties in Doolin, Ireland, and busked as a muppet at GCBF in Victoria; toasted jazz musicians in Brussels and tipped ‘em back with ska bands in Vancouver; stormed breweries across British Columbia and hosted beer festivals in my headquarters of Nanaimo—a Canadian city of 90,000+ on an island in the Pacific Ocean—where we have three breweries and unabashedly burp in front of our mothers. They burp back.

I drink with hosers, musicians, home brewers, commercial brewers, university students, university professors, graphic designers, rogues, TV and radio hosts, a 6ft4 black metal bassist known as “Death Angle,” poets, fishers, DJs, journalists, Dope Soda, Sean, my family, and, if time permits, your family.

So join in as we share the stories of outrageous flavours, consumed by outrageous people, in outrageous places. I drink craft beer, and so should you.