Back in the day I had the opportunity to develop my taste for Scotch with an old college buddy named Ray..or Ray Ray which ever you prefer. He had been traveling across the globe and decided that buying 20 or so bottles of Scotch, making a power point presentation, and getting 15 fraternity guys schnockered and wreaking of booze was a good Idea. I agree. We can officially call it a Scotch tasting. A number of the distinct tastes were suitable to my pallet and each of us monkeys participating were gifted a lottery choice of the remaining bottles. Good times. Ray is not only wicked SMRT, but he definitely knew his shite when it came to recommending Scotch. SO....
Since that day I've been known to purchase a bottle on occasion, basically when I can fake to afford it and have extra money to burn. I had a particularly shitty week last week, so I looked for a bottle to relax with. I silently thanked Ray Ray walking back to my truck after purchasing a rare find. Clynelish 22 Years Old (Rare Malts Selection) Distilled 1972, 58.95% vol This liquid is older than I am, and smooth as hell. I made no reservations for anything once the bottle was opened and sipped healthily of the liquid gold.
I woke up later than normal the following day, basically missing the sun completely rolling out of bed at 7pm. I again thanked Ray Silently and proceeded to have a we nip of the dog that bit me the previous evening.
Nothing says you "idiot" louder than having Scotch with eggs and bacon, sausage, toast grape jelly, and hash....at 8pm just after rolling out of bed. Nerrrrrrr Some days it's tough to wear a kilt...others it's pretty easy. *whacks all of you over the head with the Allmighty Shelaily Stick"