I need a drink or three, and you probably do, too
My Daddy would announce with a grin:
"Little Debbidee comes in on the gasoline smell!"
when four year old me
yet again didn't get one of his jokes
till several minutes later
...and burst into giggles
"Horse goes into a bar.
Bartender asks: Why the long face?"
Yeah, my Daddy's jokes still kill me
(That one was right on topic, yes?)
Nut now I actually get them
before the train leaves the station.
Must summon that capability here
and respond to Matt's fire flying humor
before y'all are already way down the tracks
I know nobody hears me right now.
But if I let it get too quiet around here
God knows what Matt will come out with
Hi Matt! ( Not sure you will see this as I am late, but, worth a go). I want to apologize for not being around much, I have had a frustrating, over extended too much I need and want to do, and can't find time for couple of months. Plus a few crises, so I can relate to your current state. ( My faithful laptop having an issue I think can be fixed, so it will hold up for another few years and I can get the one I want next ...it is 9 years old and has been awesome all that time ( Dell).
I love Bourbon, only whiskey I ever drink...never tried Scotch, but, I suspect I would react similarly the way I do to Gin ( It taste like pine trees...lol). My boss collects bourbons, the upper end , really expensive ones, and he keeps them at the office...lol...I have learned about Bourbon made at sea and other Bourbon trivia...I must say as someone who thinks Jack Daniels is pretty good ( w/Diet coke), I am surprised at how much I like this kind of Bourbon, straight up...( something I rarely do), but, I actually can't drink much more than a little bit because I am a lightweight...lol...it does improve the mood.
I have various alcohol at my house ( stuff for Margarita's , one of my favorites and Velvet Hammers) but, I find I do not like to drink alone, just isn't as much fun....lol
Hope things get better for you, and hopefully I will get things under control for myself soon and able to do more...I have done a purge of news related stuff for various reasons, time constraints and volume, I just can't read it all, and I read a lot of headlines only and am trying to stick to my favorite opinion writers pundits ( which I prefer anyway) and avoiding as much depressing news as I can and still stay informed.
Matt I’m sorry but I cannot read a story about single malt. I blame it on a high school memory where my friend mixed his dad’s scotch with OJ so we could get it down. What came up looked as vile as the Tangerine Emperor’s self-tanner. However, I thank you for your reference to the Scorpion’s famous wrestling move the, “figure four leg lock” because man those were the days. Roddy Rowdy Piper, Hulk Hogan and the WWF were the best of cable TV/theater—vs the endless stream of rubbish we have now.
yr time off may not have been that long, but i haven't gotten a mail from you since before christmas so i thought is was that long.
i am only on AOL and i do not use gmail. so i guess it is likely that yr transmissions went to spam w/o me telling this black box to do so, so how often will you be publishing and i'll watch for it in my spam folder or, even better, if you can remember to do so, publish yr piece and send me a separate mail asking me if i got it and we'll sleuth it out then.
tight lines !
bob in tx
A couple of drams of 90 Proof clarity is occasionally almost enough to make me swear off the stuff, since it often brings into even sharper focus just how screwed up in some ways that this little shootin' match that we call America has become. But I'm nothing if not patriotic and consider it my duty to Buy American.
So, while Bushmaster's stock will never benefit from my purchasing one of their finely made products (I'm not so afraid of the local deer that I feel the need for anything much more than my old Marlin 1895 to defend against the evil devils), I suppose I'll make up for it by seeing that the financial fortunes of Maker's Mark don't suffer because of me. But then that's not even really Buying American anymore, since my beloved Star Hill Farm is owned by some outfit that's owned by some outfit that's headquartered in Japan. Well, at least they still *make* the darned stuff here. That's something, I suppose.
Maybe I'll just swear off of adverbs. Gonna' have to pour another dram and see if I might gain some clarity on the possible salutary effects of that.
Isn't "I'm a MacLeod from the clan MacLeod and I cannot die!" supposed to be "I'm a MacLeod from the clan MacLeod and I CANNA die"?
Asking for a Scottish friend.
I hate to break it to you Matt, but your accountant has likely been gently trying to tell you that the IRS has you by the short hairs (if you'll pardon the expression). When a wordsmith faces off against the taxman, the best that the wordsmith can hope for is a pyrrhic victory.
This is the perfect read Matt, as we just got a bourbon "nosing" kit sent to us: samples of honey, cinnamon, oak, cloves, etc. We've been playing around with it, but still, bourbon still just tastes like...well, bourbon. Works fine for me.
Now scotch is the strong stuff. I can handle bits of it, but for my wife, to quote the great sage Ralph Wiggum, it all still "tastes like burning."
Also, where's the chum? We've spoken about this before. Subscribers need bumperstickers 'n' shit. "My children are in their 30s and I still won't let them read Matt Labash." That kind of thing.
Me, I call you the Adverb Dick.
Great column as always. Alas I am a non-drinker. Family history suggested that I not play roulette with the genes I 've been dealt. There are still ways of coping.
One if my mentors in the art of cynicism explained that the secret is to pretend that the entire cluster coitel is an elaborate production staged for your personal amusement. The ultimate reality show.
Years ago there was a list of military evaluations going around the internet. One was something to the effect "his troops would follow him anywhere, not out of loyalty but out of morbid fascination." Such are the times we live in.
An entirely apt rerun. My boyfriend is currently in Scotland, on a 5 month sojourn that involves visiting his daughter in England ahead of her wedding in August, and pet sitting to keep the cost of staying in the UK for 5 months affordable. True to his Kentucky roots, he's a Bourbon drinker, but when in Scotland....
I'm joining him in 2 weeks, and we'll be spending part of our time together in Scotland. I lack his deep appreciation for whiskey; my preferred form of relaxing alcoholic consumption is wine. While I'll cheerfully accompany him to distilleries and pubs, he knows that while he's actively scouting out distilleries, I'm doing the same for yarn stores. I hear the yarn in Scotland is glorious.
Oh my gosh, Matt! I have missed you! I was sure you would bless us with an Easter piece, but sounds like you were too busy. Sorry about your tax and lawnmower troubles. Good to have you back!
Yeah, well, Matt, I'd have a few adult beverages right now (or tomorrow morning, I guess) but some rat-bastard keeps slinking into my bar and guzzling my Maker's Mark 101. Bottle's almost empty....and I dragged that bottle all the way from Kentucky back to NorCal. Anyway, I very much enjoyed (related to?) your story about being an Easter Dick and Christmas Dick. Very funny (my girlfriend [who also happens to be my wife, poor thing] doesn't think I'm so funny) about how one becomes, uh, well, a DICK or a JERK or SOMETHING ELSE during these high-stress times (every day seems to be now) when I just was beginning to think the Orange Fraud was fading or slipping into the past. Mebbe you should consider going fishing instead of working. Cheaper, I'm sure. Besides, then you wouldn't have to wrestle with some numbers' cretin. As far as the tractor, mower or such plebeian contraptions are concerned, let the weeds grow and turn the mowers into beer cans and barbecues.
“I generally don't advocate drinking whisky for breakfast. But on occasion, when necessity dictates, it does have a way of setting the world right.”
What about a Monday-through-Friday Dick?
‘Sincere American Writing’