Somebody told me once,’lay off the whiskey, it’s for losers… now the truth is I was never fond of whiskey, as a child it was my father’s choice of poison, and although he wasn’t a loser, he sure weren’t a winner either.. Many times in my memory a night of scotch would often end up like a scene from rocky…so it pretty much was to my dismay that I formed a taste for it just a relatively short space in time ago… And indeed the taste-bud development for said fermented grain mash was quite swift.. In less than 18 months I’d coiffed, sloshed and deliberated over many of the malts out there, even getting excited about pubs that had a ‘whiskey map’ and cities that had ‘whiskey stores’…

….. To a most recent fine moment of swigging merrily on a johnny walker blue label for 40 bucks…

Thus, along the whisky way I took some knocks, experienced increased aggressive behaviour in self, done some things that had I not been ‘mashed’ in the head I would most definitely not have done, some laughable, some against my sober code of conduct.. So upon waking this morning with hip flask in my pocket (jack daniels honey for the record) to being thrown out of the Brooklyn room I’d purchased online to here and now being totally alone in NYC… I’m of the belief that there could be something in that statement about being a loser, I sure feel it…

The hip flask is still in my pocket and I know there’s a wee dram left in there….
…the question now is, does one continue to imbibe the ‘water of life?’ does one carry on the whiskey way?