Hammered, or enamored? Sweet Baphomet! this whisky is the bees knuckles! Oh my gourd, I feel like Shakira... Und where did I journey this fine amber coloured evening? Inside the layer of the Giraffe Man. Where we necked around and found that HEY this ship is getting deep. The cold interiors, the creaking of the metal walls succumbing to the pressure of cold, cold water. Too much poison come undone.
And suddenly, at 12:54 AM the Sheep Dip is empty.
there's lots of options that are undesirable. Sheep Dip is not. I desire this whisky like mad.
Lovely little luscious layered liquid.
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