I thought, “Yeah, I’ve been through college, there ain’t a booze on this earth I’ll have trouble slurping down.” Today, we had this Scotch tasting after work (come on folks, you can stop sending me resumes already) and I concluded that Scotch really isn’t my bag. To my jaded tongue (probably spoiled by years of excessive Mountain Dew consumption), the authentic Scotch whiskies ranged from drinkable, to tolerable, to make-a-face-afterward, to paint thinner. I actually like some of the cheap blended stuff better than the real thing.
(Doesn’t mean I won’t drink it, of course…)
QOTD: “What does that even mean?” “Quiet, brain.”