Archive for category Alcohol

Scotch: It’s Cake for Men

I love scotch. Scotchy, scotch, scotch. Here it goes down, down into my belly. . .

– Anchorman Ron Burgundy

This one goes out to all the ladies. If you have a man who loves Scotch, my hope is that maybe what follows will help you to understand him a little better.

At the ripe old age of 36, I have become a Scotch Man.

I was previously a Whiskey Man, but I feel like I am part of a new club, as it were, you know, “running with the big dogs” now. I keep asking myself why it took me so long. I could have been enjoying it all this time. I guess it’s better to have found it late, then never to have found it at all.

My analogy for what Scotch means to me at this point in my life, goes like this:

Imagine that you have never had cake before in your entire life. Ever. No cake. None. Never in your entire life. Now, imagine going without it for 36 years, and all of a sudden you try it for the first time. Think about it. I mean, it doesn’t even have to be good cake. Imagine taking a bite out of that beautiful cake triangle. You close your eyes as you savor the taste. You find the most delicious combination of frosting and cake, and savor it over and over again. Isn’t that one of life’s little treats?


It’s one of the most beautiful words in the English language.

That’s what Scotch is to me right now in my life. It too, is a new, delectable treat to be savored. The rosy fumes coming up from the glass, the taste as it goes down, the finish. The smell alone relaxes me. It’s a beautiful thing.

That’s the good news. . . . There’s one little problem, though. Let’s go back to our little cake analogy.

What would you want to do after you have tasted cake for the first time? . . . .

That’s right, you’d want to try every possible flavor of cake on the planet. Chocolate with Chocolate frosting, Carrot Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting, Raspberry Marble with Vanilla Frosting, and the ever-popular “Death by Chocolate” Cake.

“Why is that a bad thing,” you ask? Well, let’s apply this idea to trying out every Scotch on the planet:

Have you ever looked at the price tag on a good bottle of Scotch? If you have been reading my posts, you know that I’m the type who enjoys the finer things in life. A cheap $10 bottle of Scotch simply won’t do. . . . No. . . . I’ve got to try all the good stuff. The 18+ year Scotches. You know, the Scotch that at one point flows over the thighs of virgins as part of the distillation process.

I mean, I’m fucking loaded, but I’m not that loaded. I’m not the type that can afford to bathe in the stuff.

Mmmmmmmmmmm. . . .  Scotch bath. . . . . . . . . .

Anyway, my plan is three-fold:

  1. Buy the good Scotch as I can afford it, and drink it only on the weekends. In other words, put myself on a Scotch ration/budget, which is either fucking awesome or horribly pathetic, depending on your attitude about booze.
  2. Order Scotch at bars to try out different brands, which is still expensive on a per-glass basis, but at least I’m not blowing ~$100 per bottle on it.
  3. Get advice from you people. Suggestions are, of course, welcome.

So that’s my plan anyway.

It’s very exciting for me, and it really enhances my life. I can’t wait to try out new Scotches. It’s an adventure for me.

Well, it’s getting late and I have a Scotch bath waiting for me. See you next time.

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I love beer. I’ve brewed my own and drank lots of it. Over the past ten years, I’ve become an obnoxious beer snob. I can’t help but smirk and chuckle as some poor soul bellies up to the bar, only to order a Girl Lite or Miller Lame. Hell, I can drink Sam Adams and piss Budweiser. I understand the purpose of that mass produced garbage, pleasant bubbles and alcohol without all that pesky flavor to get in the way. How else could Joey from Staten Island, with his blown out haircut and white capri pants, get Gina, also from Staten Island, wasted enough to blow him on the closest beach to Club XS in Seaside without it? By hinting that he has friends in the mob? Yeah, if by “mob” you mean the group of orange skinned from fake tanning, lip gloss wearing, douche bags he hangs out with. By showing her his low end BMW that mommy and daddy bought him? Doubtful. CHEAP TASTELESS BEER. That’s his only chance of not going home alone to jerk off while watching “Growing Up Gotti” and looking at himself in the mirror. Now don’t get me wrong, I have consumed mass quantities of that cheap swill, but that was when I was young and broke and the whole purpose was to get my self as FUBAR as possible for the least amount of money. I’ll never forget the excitement that Chuck and I felt the day we found a liquor store in Dewey Beach, Delaware that was selling cases of Coors Light for $9.99 when all of our friends thought that the cheapest around was selling them for $16. hehe. We drank that whole night for two bucks a piece. Remember that Chuckie? I believe that was the same night that our one gay friend came home and exclaimed that he got laid and we spent an hour trying to figure out exactly what that meant. EWWWW. Another friend strolled drunkenly through the room where we were passed out at 5 am dragging his mattress out to the balcony because he pissed himself. Nice. Happened often with that guy. Started drinking at 7, passed out drooling in a corner by 10, and 7 out of 10 times, he ruined a mattress. Good times, man GOOD TIMES. Sorry, I’m digressing like a mother fucker.

Anyway, that all ended for me when I met my wife. She had a taste for Sam Adams and I can thank her for showing me the joys of quality beer, among other things (wink wink). My eyes were opened and there was no turning back. When we were dating we used to go to a bar called The Ark. They had a program called the 40/40 club. The deal was that you had to drink 40 domestic and 40 imported beers over the course of a lifetime and you got a free shirt and a mug to hang on the wall that got you reduced price drafts for life. I know a guy who completed the challenge for a second time in only 3 DAYS.  He MAY have had a drinking problem.  I drank my first Guinness there nervously, but now, if it’s on tap, it’s mine. It just doesn’t get any better than Guinness Extra Stout on draft. I could drink six or seven and skip a meal. What’s a seven course dinner in Ireland? Six pints of Guinness and a baked potato.

A couple of years ago, my cousin gave me the greatest gift, a Mr. Beer. I began brewing my own beer in the kitchen. I fell victim to home brewer’s snobbery myself when I dared go into a homebrew shop to buy bottle caps and mention that I used a Mr. Beer. Hippie guy with dreads reeking of patchouli and weed laughed out loud at me. Prick. He should be kissing my ass because I’m the guy that’s eventually going to upgrade to a fancy system. Die in a fire, douche bag. I MAY have anger issues. Again, I digress. I entered the world of the microbrew and would go to the liquor store to seek out new and interesting brews. Vacations turned into quests for the local brewpub. I made it a point to sample what the local brew masters had to offer. Most of the time, it worked out. But once in a while, you end up with something that tastes like it was filtered through a homeless person’s underwear. Not often, but sometimes.

So do yourself a favor. The next time you are in a bar or liquor store, try a microbrew, order a stout, go for the bottle with the name you’ve never heard of. And don’t just chug it, drink it, smell it, savor it. Who knows, you might surprise yourself and actually enjoy the flavor and not just the buzz. Let me know what you’ve discovered, I’d love to hear about it.

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Friend + Foe = Good times!

Well, here it is almost a week into our foray into the blogging world and we have yet to give one of God’s greatest gifts its props. It is our friend, alcohol. Perhaps we have taken it for granted this week assuming that when all is wrong with the world, it would be there just waiting for us. Actually that is exactly what it does, but I digress. With the weekend upon us, I think it is a great opportunity to share one of my favorite alcoholic beverages with the world, and I couldn’t do it without my close friend Mr. Beer. Yes, beer by itself is a treat, but what would you say if I told you that you could mix that wonderful libation with another liquid, that at multiple times in my life, has been considered the root of all that is evil? Of course I am talking about my long-time nemesis, the one, the only… Tequila. Many a bad night can be attributed to the evil-doings of one Jose Cuervo, but about two years ago, he and I came to a truce; I would no longer do multiple shots at the end of a long night drinking and he would not come back an hour later all over the street, floor, toilet, my shoes, etc.

So here it is the perfect combination of friend and foe, I give you, the BEERGARITA:

(2) 12 oz. cans of Minute Maid Lime-Aide concentrate
12 oz. of Jose Cuervo Tequila
(4) 12oz. of your favorite light beer (I prefer Miller Lite for this)

First, get a big pitcher and pour in the Lime-Aide. Then fill up one the empty Lime-Aide cans with tequila and dump it in. Next, pour in the beer and stir. Serve it over ice in whatever size glass you desire. Not only is it refreshing, but also will make you feel reeeeaaal good. We started drinking the Beergarita two summers ago as a “Summertime” drink, which continued into the Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring and here it is Summer again. So give it a try, mix up a batch and let me know what you think.

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