Kwazy
Shared on Fri, 02/02/2007 - 19:11Throughout my life, I've had a very tough time differentiating between love and lust. While love is composed of ingredients such as respect, adoration, and appreciation, lust must draw its breath through a more hardened orifice. Lust is passion, anger, and drama rolled into one. It allows you to want simultaneously to crush your sole's delight in the deepest embrace while caving in the side of his head with a brick.
Where love is creative, lust is destructive. But, like so many exploits in which we partake against our better judgment...damn, what a powerful drug. And drug is the right word. Another one is addiction. Which brings us to:
Bourbon. It's my newest lust. From my earliest years of waltzing with the half-empty glass, Scotch was my love. Scotch is sophisticated, cultured. It demanded respect and appreciation. I so enjoyed our relationship, but my pallet began to wander. So it came I found my glass in league with a new temptress.
Vodka. Kettle One fresh from the freezer to be more precise. This was exciting. It was as if dating a woman much above my social station. I always think of Madam Vodka as slumming when we were together. Distant and standoff-ish. This aloofness drew me in even more. But it always ends up the same; separate ways in the morning. No chemistry...ten crispy twenties on the nightstand, thank you very much. Vodka, I'll always enjoy you. Call me anytime...preferably Wednesday morning, 3:00 AM...apologies to Mr. Simon.
You start out with your Martinis up. For you, the uninitiated in the Way of the Grain, up means chilled...either shaken in ice and strained or...well, as far as I'm concerned that's the only way to do it. Eventually , you get sick of the games. A well made martini is at the mercy of a bartender's skill...up, that is. When you graduate to on the rocks, it's like peeling off the condom. Raw. Sexual. And utterly independent of a bartender's interference. Nice try, no cock-block for you.
Time out. Have to switch gears for just a second. The mouth-breather on my portside just ordered a "Royal Crown and Coke." The bartender didn't miss a beat. Royal Crown is a soda, you fucking nitwit. Crown Royal is an overrated Canadian Whiskey. I'll bet you drive a Lexas Sport-ute, don't you? I'm going to poop on it on my way out.
Game on. I believe when last we left, I called up vodka, but she had to do this societal scene thing with her hubby. It's for charity, don't you know and everything. I tell her to send me a self addressed stamp envelope, and I'll give her two dollars a day...about the cost of a cup of coffee.
Hhhhhmmmmm....visions of Sally Struthers. We could carve her rather bountiful backside into steaks and feed most of Afrika through 2013.
Yanking the wheel back on course, the tires squeal with protest and we find ourselves again on Bourbon Street. I think that's the way we started? Bourbon is the other direction...180 degrees from vodka. Bourbon is sex. It's sultry. Bourbon doesn't care about the contents of your wallet. It doesn’t give a shit if your address doesn't fall high enough up the hill on the hippest street. She's ready. Right. Fucking. Now.
And she'll let you do anything you want to her.
Where love is creative, lust is destructive. But, like so many exploits in which we partake against our better judgment...damn, what a powerful drug. And drug is the right word. Another one is addiction. Which brings us to:
Bourbon. It's my newest lust. From my earliest years of waltzing with the half-empty glass, Scotch was my love. Scotch is sophisticated, cultured. It demanded respect and appreciation. I so enjoyed our relationship, but my pallet began to wander. So it came I found my glass in league with a new temptress.
Vodka. Kettle One fresh from the freezer to be more precise. This was exciting. It was as if dating a woman much above my social station. I always think of Madam Vodka as slumming when we were together. Distant and standoff-ish. This aloofness drew me in even more. But it always ends up the same; separate ways in the morning. No chemistry...ten crispy twenties on the nightstand, thank you very much. Vodka, I'll always enjoy you. Call me anytime...preferably Wednesday morning, 3:00 AM...apologies to Mr. Simon.
You start out with your Martinis up. For you, the uninitiated in the Way of the Grain, up means chilled...either shaken in ice and strained or...well, as far as I'm concerned that's the only way to do it. Eventually , you get sick of the games. A well made martini is at the mercy of a bartender's skill...up, that is. When you graduate to on the rocks, it's like peeling off the condom. Raw. Sexual. And utterly independent of a bartender's interference. Nice try, no cock-block for you.
Time out. Have to switch gears for just a second. The mouth-breather on my portside just ordered a "Royal Crown and Coke." The bartender didn't miss a beat. Royal Crown is a soda, you fucking nitwit. Crown Royal is an overrated Canadian Whiskey. I'll bet you drive a Lexas Sport-ute, don't you? I'm going to poop on it on my way out.
Game on. I believe when last we left, I called up vodka, but she had to do this societal scene thing with her hubby. It's for charity, don't you know and everything. I tell her to send me a self addressed stamp envelope, and I'll give her two dollars a day...about the cost of a cup of coffee.
Hhhhhmmmmm....visions of Sally Struthers. We could carve her rather bountiful backside into steaks and feed most of Afrika through 2013.
Yanking the wheel back on course, the tires squeal with protest and we find ourselves again on Bourbon Street. I think that's the way we started? Bourbon is the other direction...180 degrees from vodka. Bourbon is sex. It's sultry. Bourbon doesn't care about the contents of your wallet. It doesn’t give a shit if your address doesn't fall high enough up the hill on the hippest street. She's ready. Right. Fucking. Now.
And she'll let you do anything you want to her.
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Comments
Submitted by Fetal on Sun, 02/04/2007 - 05:03
Submitted by Kwazy on Sun, 02/04/2007 - 10:46
Submitted by Armorsmith76 on Sun, 02/04/2007 - 11:29
Submitted by Kwazy on Sun, 02/04/2007 - 12:54