Tuesday, November 23, 2004

blessins of buddy don: more thanks

tiz a week fer givin yer thanks so im a'countin sum of the minny blessins i gut. all them blessins is proof that god continues to bless n reward the undeservin. yesterdy i give sum thanks fer three sangle malt scotches that ye kin git fer under $20 over in man hattan. thays all rite nice cun bettern blends, witch i hope to do a lil revu of them blends by n by.

but today is dun planned fer two of the gratest scotches at inny price, n thang is, ye kin get em fer under $40 fer a bottle.
  1. furstn is glenmorangie ten year. ye kin git thisn over in man hattan fer $24 sum places n $27 otherns, but ifn ye dont shop round, ye kin pay as much as $35-$40. dont matter the price ye pay, ye a'gone git one of the grate scotches. tiz cumplex as kin be yet delicut. ye git a fine nose that aint too intents. the flavor jes seems to git bigger the longer ye hold it in yer mouth. twill put a smile on mos inny face. nuther thang bout thisn is how taint verr peaty, witch that means taint so hard fer folks to adapt to. taint everbidy that lacks the taste of peat n one of the minny blessins bout sangle malt scotch is how thays so minny differnt tastes. ifn ye aint never tride no sangle malt befor, thisn could be jes the thang to git ye started. warning: it could turn into a obsesshun.
  2. the second one i wonta menchun today is laphroaig 10 year. thisn mite be priced innwhars frum $34 to $50 but ye orta shop round till ye git sumthin under $40. twill be wurth it on a counta thisns one of the mos famus tastes of inny sangle malt. tiz known fer bein a scotch folks eethur luvs or hates. at whisky fest, a feller sed sumthin long the lines of how tiz the scotch ye luv to hate n hate to luv. that dont wurk fer me n miz bd on a counta how we jes luv it to whar tiz one of our faverts, with the nose of a campfire, an oily vibrunt taste thats gut sum of the best peat flavor ye kin git, a lil iodine, a lil seaweed. furst time we tasted it, seem lack we could magine sittin by a campfire on a verr isolated beach. tiz that eloquent. corse, ifn ye dont lack the taste n smell of peat, thisn aint fer ye. fack is, tiz so eggstreme a taste that durin prohibishun, twuz let in to the u. s. of a. on a counta how folks importin it sed twuz medicin. one sniff n them revenooers agreed. n thay wuz rite: tiz a good medicin fer mos inny keer that mite ail ye.
corse thays moren good sangle malt scotch to be thankful fer, but tiz sumthin me n miz bd dint know nuthin bout last thanksgivin. also, tiz only a lil ice shavin offn the tip of the iceberg of blessins we all orta be a'countin more often.

No comments: