My beer tried to kill me

I have a few cases of almost forgotten homebrewed beer in the basement and I figured I ought to fish some of it up before it loses any appeal. So this afternoon, I hefted up a partial case of a nice IPA I brewed last fall and set it down in front of the fridge. I leaned over to clear some space on a shelf. Then I heard a pop and felt a searing pain. I looked down and realized a bottle had exploded right between my legs, driving the neck and cap straight up into my undefended crotch.

Let me tell you, this hurt a very great deal. Perhaps more than a great deal.

I guess it beats a piece of glass in the eye, but I will be remembering this for a few days.

The only good news is that, based on the aroma of the exploded bottle, the hop character has held up pretty well over the last 10 months. As long as the remaining bottles don't blow up on me, I am in for a few reasonable glasses of beer.