skull hurts…

…long day

sometimes shipping is a slow going process…

and sometimes spring turkey season makes the office into a desert. 

glenfiddich is coming to the office this evening…

and that hasn't happened yet. 

I think there will be a burger somewhere in there. 

but I could use a nap. 

—the bastard

three hots and a cot

the bastard has more to be thankful for this year than he has in previous years…

Acts of mother nature have given him pause…

And after almost a week back at my perch, I'm so grateful that I can't even be annoyed by my pot smoking neighbor and his freeloading crew of pot smoking freeloaders…

Mostly because him and his cronies smoking on their balcony means that normal has returned to our little pocket of the liquid city…

And I'm happy about that

Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906)
Signs of the Times

Air a-gittin' cool an' coolah,
Frost a-comin' in de night,
Hicka' nuts an' wa'nuts fallin',
Possum keepin' out o' sight.
Tu'key struttin' in de ba'nya'd,
Nary a step so proud ez his;
Keep on struttin', Mistah Tu'key,
Yo' do' know whut time it is.

Cidah press commence a-squeakin'
Eatin' apples sto'ed away,
Chillun swa'min' 'roun' lak ho'nets,
Huntin' aigs ermung de hay.
Mistah Tu'key keep on gobblin'
At de geese a-flyin' souf,
Oomph! dat bird do' know whut's comin';
Ef he did he'd shet his mouf.

Pumpkin gittin' good an' yallah
Mek me open up my eyes;
Seems lak it's a-lookin' at me
Jes' a-la'in' dah sayin' "Pies."
Tu'key gobbler gwine 'roun' blowin',
Gwine 'roun' gibbin' sass an' slack;
Keep on talkin', Mistah Tu'key,
You ain't seed no almanac.

Fa'mer walkin' th'oo de ba'nya'd
Seein' how things is comin' on,
Sees ef all de fowls is fatt'nin' --
Good times comin' sho's you bo'n.
Hyeahs dat tu'key gobbler braggin',
Den his face break in a smile --
Nebbah min', you sassy rascal,
He's gwine nab you atter while.

Choppin' suet in de kitchen,
Stonin' raisins in de hall,
Beef a-cookin' fu' de mince meat,
Spices groun' -- I smell 'em all.
Look hyeah, Tu'key, stop dat gobblin',
You ain' luned de sense ob feah,
You ol' fool, yo' naik's in dangah,
Do' you know Thanksgibbin's hyeah?

That said, be thanks for what you've got…

Be thankful for the people in your life…

Be thankful for your health…

Be thankful for whiskey…

—the bastard

...in which the bastard shows you pictures in the least convenient way possible

shot show ain't the mullet fest it used to be. and i don't put it all together like that anymore since i got on the virus that is twitter and facebook and instagram.

so that said,

i have linked as many of these words as possible in order to that it you jerks want a look at the bastard's life on the road you can. or perhaps you can't. either way, i still get whiskey out of the deal so up yours.

—the bastard

the deaths door challenge…

…or how the bastard rediscovered doctor whiskey for the 11th time.

the bastard reads alot of shit on the interwebs about alot of things.

and

some of it is about alcohol.

new brands.

new styles.

a fresh spin on an old style.

alcoholics.

stuff like that.

recently, my brother in law flew in for the Christmas (I'm gonna call it Christmas because that's what I was celebrating. if you'd like to talk Kwanzaa, we can talk about Ron karenga electrocuting his girlfriend in another post) and I seized the opportunity to pick up this white whiskey I read about on uncrate called 'deaths door'.

Named after the super treacherous strait formed by Washington Island, WI and the Door Peninsula, Death's Door Spirits have both a literal and poetic connection to the location. Death's Door White Whisky is made from a mash with an 80:20 ratio of organic Washington Island Wheat and organic malted barley, double-distilled to 160 proof (!), and finished in uncharred oak barrels to bring it together.

this is from the press release.

so after the wife adjourned herself for the evening (not the whiskey drinking sort) the bastard pulled out two glasses for himself and the brother in law who is more of a scotch man.

after a long draw, I looked at him and he at me and both agreed that deaths door was 'nice'.

'nice'

that's what it was.

it was clean.

it has an almost grassy finish.

but it was only 'nice'.

I followed up with two glasses of knob creek. and immediately upon hitting that it came to me.

this was what was missing from deaths door.

smoke

caramel

character

deaths door can really pack the alcohol in but it's just 'nice'.

like the Midwest.

nice.

but I'd rather live in the dirty smokey part of the country instead.

—the bastard

knights of the rails part4

"stick to your guns" is what the bastard decided on the Tarmac at 4:55 this morning

travel on a budget ain't easy

and it ain't gonna get any easier with a crappily made cheese steak being washed down with decent whiskey.

but no one said the bastard wanted it easy.

east is for people who are ready to drop 40 bucks to sit on the van wyck with a crappily made cheesesteak washed down with decent whiskey.

way I see it, I'm gonna feel I'll either way and if I hit all my marks, I'm only gonna lose 20 minutes of my life.

and I get some cardio out of it.

who am I kidding, I'd rather be sleeping in a cab on the van wyck but a man's gotta stick to his guns.

—the bastard

song track: the mob rules