Though I probably have obtained a PhD in Drinkonomics after my undergrad career at a state college (it was my major after all!) I figured I would maintain some vestige of humility and classify this as only an intermediate drinking guide.  Mastering the subtleties of booze is a life-long calling after all; it would smack of arrogance to hold myself forth as a master at so tender an age.  That said, I recently re-read my old drinking guide and cringed at some of my former beliefs and advice.  I aim to set right what once went wrong, and as always, hope the next post will be the post back home.

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Counterculture is almost entirely counterproductive. There are few things more aggravating to the average college student than seeing some dreadlock-clad white guy, reeking of pot and wearing a CBGB shirt, approaching you. Brace yourself, you’re about to embark on a fantastic voyage to a magical world in the Fagatron solar system where all of society ills are caused by corporations, free weed will revitalize Africa’s economy, and you’re part of the machine maaaan! Read more

Permanent Vacation is the name of an unintentionally hilarious hipster movie I got in my Netflix in a fit of boredom once. If you’ve never seen it, I highly recommend it; you get to see a scrawny, effeminate hipster go on a spasmodic “Bee-Bop” spree about 5 minutes in. He says he wants to “live fast and die young, like Charlie Parker,” slurred out in a manner that is begging for a beating.

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Ok, so technically this isn’t a true whiskey, but it was intriguing enough to catch my eye on the shelf. It’s spring break down here, and I was coming off a week of margaritas and Mexican beer. I wasn’t quite ready to give that up yet, so perhaps the Jose Cuervo Black, a tequila that is aged in barrels to give it bourbon-like qualities, represents my stubborn refusal to once again enter the real world of being responsible and waking up before noon. I love a liquor that I can attribute abstract rationalizations to!

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Told you all that I’d get back to whiskey eventually!

Since I am a broke ass college student, I’m not above turning to the bottom shelf. Upon reading that Old Crow Bourbon was the favored drink of such men of reknown as Andrew Jackson and Ulysses Grant I was hooked. In a world of marketing being slanted towards GLAMOR-EXCLUSIVE-BLINGBLING-CLUB-VODKA and other high rolling bullshit I was pleased to find a more simple, blue collar, manly spirit.

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My God, this beer is fucking godly. Utterly ridiculously good. Sam Adams should pay me for what I am about to say about this beer. I try to maintain at least a semblance of objectivity here, but I would honestly start crying like a Republican in the last election if this ever went off the market.

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Thanks to Target’s kick-ass “make your own 4 pack” promotion I snagged the three original American craft brews: Samuel Adams Boston Lager, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, and Anchor Steam.

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Taking a brief whiskey departure to talk about beer again, I just can’t help myself.

I’m about to destroy all of my beer snob credibility in one fell swoop, but fuck those dorks, I really like Landshark lager. Stumble on over to Beer Advocate or similar site and you’ll see all the lager-hating beer dorks cackling about how it’s truly brewed by AB or something, like this is the goddamn Scarlet Letter for beers and automatically makes it bad. This beer could be brewed by Satan himself (I guess Jimmy Buffet is a close second) and I’d still happily swill it. It’s a great island style lager, and I think would go even better than Red Stripe with some conch fritters or other Caribbean fare.

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I was visiting my friend in Nashville and got psyched to fucking hell when I found out they had Arrogant Bastard Ale there. This has been the #1 brew on my “Beers to Try” list for literally 3 or 4 years now, and I was almost giddy with anticipation.

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This is probably the lamest thing I have ever written, I’m going to get my ass kicked at recess for this.

I feel bad for the sensory-deprived friends and family around me, completely walled off from the world of fine food and drink out there. You know who these people are; they will order chicken fingers or a hamburger no matter what restaurant they are at, they will shun new culinary experiences entirely, they will only drink Budweiser or one brand of liquor.

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Kicking off my week of whiskey, I decided to gently ease myself into the shallow end of the pool rather than swan-dive into the deep, alluring golden waters all at once. Yes, not a very whiskey thing to do at all, but hey, it’s the start of the week and I have some meager responsibilities these days.

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I’m going to start to revamp the rating system with one to five stars instead of just doing Appearance, Smell, and Taste (AST). In addition to lending a more concrete score to my opinions, this will allow people to just scroll down to the score if they want a quick and dirty summary. I’m probably going to start flexing my writing chops and rambling a lot more in the reviews too, so it will also help avoid that if you’re not in the mood.

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I’ll just wait for everyone to stop hurfin’ and durfin’ about the name.

Mount Gay is a very old brand of rum from Barbados. Rum is my spirit of choice, so most of you are probably confused by the lack of rum reviews so far. I intend to rectify this post haste.

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I wrote this for a friend awhile back, and figured this would be a decent place to post it rather than letting it languish in my email outbox. It’s just a little drinking primer that includes the stuff I wish people had told me when I first started drinking.

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The art of drinking can be a strange and confusing one…especially in America, where people needlessly look upon it as mythical and also drink terrible things. I’ll try to break it down into simple terms for you here, starting with common sizes of drinks, the different types, and end with some hangover tips: Read more

Rereading some of the old entries I gotta say I was apparently suffering from some emotional problems. Did anyone make it through that entire “Snowflakes” article? Congratulations to you, sir or madam. Good God, it’s like I was an emo kid. I also manage to sound like a mentally disturbed Asian fetishist on a few of them; cut me some slack angry white girls, I wrote those mainly for my at-the-time Korean girlfriend.

There’s going to be a huge change in tone, so sorry for anyone who actually still read this and was looking forward to me eventually posting an article about contemplating suicide. When I first started this site my life was a living hell; I toiled probably 60 hours a week at a thankless job that barely paid me above minimum wage with no prospects or hope of advancement. Seriously people, get out and have fun, have some drinks, fuck some chicks. I would totally go register drink-and-fuck-chicks.com but it’s probably already taken.


Peace bredders.