How to choose the right single malt Scotch whisky for you!
By Jeremy Azevedo
Last week I had the distinct pleasure of attending a single malt Scotch whisky tasting with Edward “Dirt” Adams, Master of Whisky for the luxury Classic Malts Selection brand.
Classic Malts were showing off their latest releases for the holidays, and I was more than happy to help them out by soaking up a few samples. After I had given up on trying to guess whether Dirt was a Scottish dude with an American accent or an American dude with a Scottish accent, I began to wonder what kind of people would enjoy these fine single malts that I tasted?
To make things easier, I’ve included a picture of the celebrity that each single malt made me think of, in case any of you are illiterate, or too drunk to read the accompanying text. That way, no one feels left out!
Dalwhinnie Distillers Edition
Who is it for?
Dalwhinnie is somewhat sweet, somewhat creamy, and somewhat smoky. In no way does it really tip the scale one way or the other. Dalwhinnie is a smooth, easygoing malt for a consumer that expects excellence, but doesn’t necessarily want to take any risks. It also bears mentioning that when combined with smoky almonds, Dalwhinnie tastes just like bacon. So if you don’t like bacon, then you should probably not eat smoky almonds while drinking this. You should also get a cat scan, because clearly, something is wrong with your brain. Bacon is delicious!
Oban 14
Who is it for?
Oban is one of the oldest Scotch whisky distilleries in the world. It also exists in a particularly unique location, nestled between the coast and the highlands, that is nearly impossible to reproduce. Oban 14 has a slight orange flavor that tastes a bit like Grand Marnier, except not all syrupy and lame. Oban 14 is great for fancy dandies that don’t mind a little fruitiness in their Scotch. Which sounds like an oxymoron, I know. However, those of you who are willing to break the mold of the bearded, salty old dogs drinking Scotch straight with no water, on a bearskin rug that you tell everyone that you killed with your bare hands (but actually bought on eBay), then you will discover that Oban 14 is one of the most unique and wonderful single malts on the market today. Read the rest of this entry →
Jesus… H… Christ… Celebrities piss me off so bad man. I really mean it. I just want to smash them!
And it’s not just because I’m jealous ’cause they get invited to fancy parties and can afford top shelf liquor and exotic vacations with beautiful models and shit while I’m subjected to vacationing in Palm Springs, drinking Prestige vodka with a meth-addicted 35-year old stripper with four kids by three ex-husbands. It’s certainly nothing to do with that. It’s just that I’m sick of how they act all entitled to their fame, as if it’s the kind of thing that you’re born into, and not the sort of thing that you have to work at like everything else in life.
This past week has been a smorgasborg of celebrity bullf**kery that has my ire worked up so bad that I actually had to look up the word “ire” in the dictionary to see if it was something that may actually be harmful in large doses or whatever. That’s how worked up it was. My ire, I mean.
The first celebrity to piss me off this week was Jessica Simpson, acting all indignant because people are calling her fat on account of her being fat and everything. Hey, Jessica, here’s a newsflash for you: You are not famous because you are a good singer, or because anybody finds you interesting or enjoys your “acting”. You are only moderately noteworthy because you are a hot P.O.A. and dudes want to motorboat those titties. That’s it. End of story. You are asked to do perform one simple task for humanity, which is to look hot. All you have to do is not get fat. That’s it! For this you will be paid more in a year than I make in a lifetime, and yet you can’t even do this ONE GODDAMN THING! If you are butthurt because people are calling you fat, it’s because you’re not doing your job, so shut up, put down the f**king meatball sub and get your ass into the gym you stupid little cooze.
Fat.
Next we’ve got Ashton Kutcher, the most obnoxious and talentless douchebag in Hollywood, the kind of guy that argues about who started the trucker hat fad as if it was something to be proud of and for whom being the boy-toy of an old cougar (who may very well be a sorceress) is a career goal. This little prick just made a video bitching about his neighbors doing construction at 7 in the morning and waking him up. I don’t know how this asshole thinks his own post modern Hollywood Hills mansion (that he’s probably borrowing from Demi) got built, but construction is something that goes on from time to time in places where people would like to live. True story! And as someone that has at one time worked in construction, I can tell you that work begins at fist daylight and continues until dark, because that’s how shit gets done. These people have to do hard physical labor all day long to feed their families, unlike Kutcher, who slaps on his Ed Hardy hoodie around noon, goes and gives one of his dipshit party pals a stick of gum that tastes like fish or some crap, tells them they got “punk’d” and then goes home and smokes weed all day. So threatening to “kick their asses” and stuff is not only laughable, because he’s a pussy, but makes him look like an even bigger choad then we already knew that he was.
In response to a modern new era that continually pushes the boundaries of what is and isn’t morally acceptable behavior, the Vatican has released and updated list of seven new “deadly sins”, the violation of which will surely lead to your eternal damnation.
Unfortunately, those gosh darn Buddhists or whatever in the yellow press got a hold of the original decree and changed it to suit their needs. Polluting the environment? Genetic engineering? Obscene wealth? You’d think God was some kind of f**king hippy the way those assholes are trying to make him sound. But don’t worry, we’ve got the real list right here, so have a look at the REAL seven deadly sins for the modern era and consider yourself saved. You’re welcome.
Appearing on a reality TV show
I have no idea what show this is from, but it looks disgusting, whatever it is.
If you are looking to jumpstart your acting career, getting drunk and throwing dinner plates at strangers in fashionable swim wear for two weeks is probably not going to help. If you are looking for love, you’re probably not going to find it with a D-list celebrity by riding a unicycle with a margarita on your head. Eating a plateful of pickled horseshit is not going to cure your overwhelming fear of commitment. There is no amount of money that will make supplicating to Tila Tequila and/or Flava Flav acceptable in the eyes of the lord. Changing the name “Star Search” to “American Idol” and replacing Ed McMahon with Ryan Seacrest doesn’t make vapid pricks singing bad karaoke okay or acceptable. Additionally, the Vatican warns that there is a possibility Ryan Seacrest may even be the Antichrist foretold by scripture. The coming apocalypse will be heralded by the return of “The Grind” to network television. The Vatican may even go so far as to say that the mere act of watching reality TV may be damaging to your soul. You have been warned.
Fat people in tight clothes
How many god-fearing people had to starve so that behemoth could feed?
Fat people that wear tight clothes are a crime against fashion, nature, and all that is holy. Fat is not “fabulous”, regardless of what Tyra/Oprah/Rosie or whatever fat chick on TV is popular at the moment tells you. The Vatican considers mouthy bitches to be agents of sin, fat ones especially. If you are a portly lady or fellow with no bum, tight, skinny jeans are not for you. The Vatican doesn’t care how strict the dress codes for being an emo scene kid are. Nobody wants to see your muffin top. Emo music is clearly homosexual in nature anyway, and you know how the Vatican frowns upon that. While we’re on the subject, fix your hair too. The road to hell is paved with unfortunate hairstyles. But we digress. Seriously, is there anything more disgusting than an enormous fatbody in tights and a belly shirt? Cover that shit up, you gluttonous beast, the power of Christ compels you!
