kurt cOBAN

Just like Kurt swallowed a barrel of a gun and laid waste to his braincells, Joey had an epic fail last night. The 86 proof Oban 14 year scotch, a scotch from a region nestled perfectly at the intersection of land and sea, a so called "walk on the beach," got down Joey's throat and rallied the prisoners of his stomach and, with a muffled cry, mutinied, taking Joey's dinner and possibly lunch with it. We were watching Siouxsie Sioux videos and then the exalted Alice on Acid for guest Shaina's pleasure, when all of the sudden Joey started to emulate poor Alice. I think the words might even have left his mouth: "I can't do this right now." But its okay, old chum, for thou art definitely not the first fallen soldier:



So how, you may wonder, does an 80 dollar bottle of top shelf Whisky inspire the esophagus to convulse in unpleasant ways? Let's analyze. Oban is unlike almost any of the whisky's we've thrown down the hatchet. It's distinct character is duly noted (and widely appreciated). As for taste, it's muscly, dry, peaty, a bit of the salt of the sea is in every golden olive sip. There's some kind of wicked voodoo in the bottle due to the misty and mysterious qualities of Oban's distillation process. Made in extremely small batches, with 200 year old techniques, using partially germinated malted barley roasted to secret specifications, this is a conoisseur's whisky. In other words, the quality of the alcohol, its taste and complexity are all things to appreciate, not upchuck.

The only reasonable solution to our inquisition is that Joey is a pansy. No, really, the often overlooked statement on almost every bottle you swig out of holds a few ounces of wisdom: Please, Drink Responsibly.