Johnny Walker Black

So Mr. Black, what do thy hath to offer? This was the ultimate question going into our night with plans of consuming The Black label of Johnny Walker. Incase some of you are unaware.... JOhnny walker makes different grades of Whisky...

Red Label - This was our first excursion of Her Walker

Black Label - Front and Center

Green Label - Next in line

Gold Label - this shit is expensive

Blue Label - maybe someday (180 dollar

bottle)

This night started out well. With my last experience fresh in my mind, i was careful to pace myself come the evening. Approximately 8pm arrives, and JOhnny Walker is cracked open. Though red is poor, Black Label is far from pleasing on the pallet. We had a comrade with us, enjoying the evenings entertainment.... which turned out to be a coloful stew of Fake Mustaches, paper, sharpies, tape and Max's immense desire to

share music with the world.

The artist formally known as Geeves

The Unicorn Princess in the Flesh

Tree Hugging Dirt Worshipper

Anyhew, after much consumption, much inhalation (when are these guys gunna learn their lesson!??) and much under water basket weaving.... we were then pulled in by the magnet

known as video game systems. Street Fighter again.... i noticed when i play street fighter i kick serious ass, but every once in a bit Max takes me out... and from this i noticed anger burn in me so strong i want to inflict serious damage on his person, video games are not healthy i say. This night concluded peacefully with little to no yelling, screaming, kicking, puking, howling, meat eating, or candy corn (that shits good too)

Money is the bank,

Shorty what is your preferable

beverage of choice.

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.

Got "Oban"-ed

Wow. Geeez La Weeez. Well last night wasnt the dreamy creamy whisky drinkin we had all hoped for. So earlier in the day, i stop at BevMo and catch this Bottle of Oban with my Poke' Ball. (((((OBAN WE CHOOSE YOU!!!))))) So Max finishes his shift at slave world, we officially open Oban and proceed to drinkin.

About an hour after the festivities begin, a delightful piece of eye candy arrives as a guest. At this point the mistake was made to bring out the Smokedie Smoke..... not wise. As i soon realize, i was drinkin the Whisky at quit a rapid pace. The Whisky sinks in, the Smoke sinks in, the spins sink in, and my dinner exits from a place i thought food was only suppose to enter......not exit. I rapidly ruin the night and the next thing i know im waking up the next morning..... which happens to be Earth Day! But man, what an epic fail :-|

~HeirTierney

New Bottle Coming Tonight

Tonight a Whottle of Bisky Shall be consumed.

Nice pic right?

Another Random PIcture Update

I post extra pics every now and here and then and there in hopes that it will vibrate the humorous part in your person.

Deep.
yuMmmMmmmy!
woah! Holy Flying Minds Batman!
epic right?
nice face
Whats cooler.... the white ghost thing protruding out of the box like a proboscis? Or that gnarly lookin goat that appears to have dominated all other goats and is the only left on earth?

Picture Update

If You can tell me whats on the labtop, you win a prize
Who are you and what are you doing with my Whisky!
Is she an actor or really just fucked up?
Work pants. Jakes gnarly drawing in the backround. Nice face asshole.

Jameson

Oh, Jameson. Irish WhiskEy indeed. We drank this on Mr. Goodwin's birthday. Jameson was purely polite on the pallet, personifying Mr. John Jameson, a Scottish-born businessman. -> June 2008: Jameson sales reach 2.6 million cases. God Dam right?! Well it deserves the sales because its efficiently priced with an over-efficient taste.

The night ended up with Max and I battling, using our minds, creating strategies and plans to take the other out... in Street Fighter. I was Zangieff for sure, dude is ripped. But Max's Blanka was electrifying my ass and taking me down with his repetitive frustrating low kicks. I attempted to go for the Anderson Silva of Street fight...Dhalsim. I was picking him apart with my reach and slide kicks, but he quickly adapted and took me out again. Then we finished up by watching Super Jail

Another great night for The Whisky Business