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ALTHOUGH Dublin man Cian Harkin claims to be somewhat of a connoisseur when it comes to craft beer, friends have noticed that after 8 bottles or more, he begins to ease up on discussions about malt, hops, barley, and subtle notes of citrus and oak.

Harkin, 28, usually spends his nights out talking about his current favourite IPA or craft stout, and will only meet his pals in bars that have a good selection of microbrewed ales and lagers.

Criticising his friends for drinking name-brand beers, which he describes as “swill”, Harkin can be heard to voice his opinions on the full-bodied flavour of his preferred red ale, or the malty treacleness of a good dark porter.

Friends have noted that this usually lasts until Harkin’s seventh bottle of strong beer, at which point he becomes more interested in drinking anything as long as it has alcohol in it, with topics such as where he can get chips and ‘the hoop on that girl over there’ also entering the conversation.

“Up till 11 o’clock, all he talks about is craft beer,” said Paul O’Hanlon, who just about tolerates Harkin at best.

“Once you get by 11, he stops sniffing his beer before he drinks it, he stops swirling it around in his mouth before swallowing it. And he sure as fuck stops rattling on about how it tastes like freshly cut grass or smushed blackcurrants or Rancheros or some shit like that. And he certainly gets less fussy about what he drinks: I’ve been out with him at nine o’clock and we’ve walked to five different pubs to find a stout he likes. After 12, I’ve seen him drink a bottle of Smirnoff Ice with a fag butt in it”.

Harkin was unavailable for comment this morning, as he was bringing up a sumptuous, malty, full-bodied stream of vomit into his toilet.