posted by Deron Bauman in adventure, awesome | * | 26 comments
Nothin’ says lovin’ like — possum.
I see you are taking good care of the Whisky – them possums will drink anything I am led to understand.
Nothin’ says lovin’ like an Oral Roberts postcard.
I said Oral Roberts.
You’re welcome, Hon.
I got my first bottle of Laphroaig Quarter Cask in August. It’s an excellent Scotch. I’m hoping you’re feeling better, and if not, the Scotch should help take the edge off!
Pic Great. I assume Amy took. ?
Possums is a problem down here in the rv park. Y’all come on down.
Shall I bring my cat in order that you may hear me cry out, “LENA! Quit bothering that possum this instant!”?
It’s quite a fetching little possum. Mia has one, too. Of course, Mia isn’t afraid of hers….
On Laphroaig, I’ve only tasted it once, and I believe that was enough. It was like drinking liquified peat. I can imagine possibly developing a taste for it over time, but I’m not likely to buy it for myself. I prefer Glenlivet for casual drinking (to the extent that a single malt can ever be a casual drink), and Macallan for special occasions.
Cindy, I must say I am with you on the peatiness of Laphroaig and pretty much all of the highland whiskys. I recall being given a bottle of it as a present and it taking me an age to drink the damn stuff. I will only drink one blend and that is Famous Grouse. I am with you on The Macallan – pretty hard to beat.
See, it’s 5.30 and you have me pondering,
Folks, folks, folks. There are the peaty Scotchs, and there are the caramelly Scotchs, and there are those which are nuanced with shadings of both. The isle of Islay produces some staggering whisky.
I had a friend once who visited Islay every couple of years, and brought back about a dozen bottles of whisky every time. Before I visited his house, I didn’t understand whisky at all. His thing was the caramelly ones. There are some incredibly good small distillery Scotchs, and they are not cheap. And they are not widely circulated.
Oh and then I met a man who wrote books about Scotch, taste and guide books mostly, he was a riot. He told me of his adventures on Islay, making love in the grounds of each of the 24 distilleries there. He had that passion born of chutzpah and a lot of whisky.
Both these men were English.
Thank you, Lucy. The only path, obviously, is to drink more. And perhaps to hang around with more Englishmen.
Lucy, stop it! I have enough drinking to do without having to sample all Islay malts!
Cindy, I’m English and I love Americans. I also love Whisky – Bourbon as well.
Cindy, I believe you might call that a cri de bosom.
Lucy said bosom.
Phil, I have the (perhaps dubious) distinction of being unnaturally attractive to British men. For many years now, if ever we are at a party and a British fellow happens to be there, he’ll make a beeline for me and encourage my drinking. Even at work, the staff joke about English-born doctors and their crushes on me (and that includes young, handsome ones–not just the old farts I would normally attract). (Well, come to think of it, it’s been a while since any of the young, attractive ones took notice. But the old farts still do.) At one party, our then-teenage daughter had words with a British geologist who was plying me with wine, eager to hear my thoughts on the sexual properties of wasabi.
One day I decided to just come out and ask one of the doctors about it, and he turned beet red and suggested that I possess a certain bawdiness that appeals to many British men.
So, Phil, is it true? Is bawdiness the key to an Englishman’s heart?
Cindy, I considered answering at length but I tie myself up with words as I often have no idea what I am on about. May I confine it to one word.
That settles it, then.
I’d hate to speak for a nation, but . . . . bawdy we like, bawdy, we do very well.
I have no trouble seeing why Brits or anybody else would be attracted to Cindy–but I can confirm that such men do indeed head straight for her with that bemused look and almost spilling cocktail common to goers. I think some of it results from the fact that Cindy has an open and unabashed expression on her face most of the time, and can smile brightly even when talking about genitalia or when verbally squashing a deserving person.
So I’m lucky and I’m not even British.
Daryl, being British – or English as I like to say, is indeed a cross I carry heavily.
Needless to say, you had me laughing like a drain – English and probably Victorian, as time has stood still here.
Me, I’m off to direct the servants to warm the bed with a pan of hot water and turn back the sheets. Ah, a little Grouse shooting in the morning me thinks.
Deron i hope that right side club like appendage is not giving you grief, with all them animals by your side i doubt it
Lucy you want to take me on a highland scotchs educational tour? too many Grouse drinkers methinks, i’d pay well you know
Alek, don’t forget about the Grouse eaters as well!
Phew Alek, you make a heady mix: whisky drinking, adventure and getting paid. I’ll do it! The great thing is that all we really have to do is to show up in Islay, and start walking anywhere.
cool lucy, let me know when theres a gap in your schedule and i’ll send a plane over
phil – could i ever forget the grouse eaters having feasted on pheasant tonight, from the Scottish highlands no less, myself