I enjoy writing this blog but there are times it could drive a person to drink. Responding to some of the inane comments is time consuming and boring and many critics have been sent packing from this blog and occasionally if they p*ss me off enough they get blocked. Most criticisms are like water running off a ducks back because they consist mostly of a steady stream of BS but also loads and loads of your good old fashion boring political rhetoric. My solution is to ignore damn near everything, laugh my ass off, and then have a cold refreshing alcoholic beverage or whiskey. Todays post will concern trivial facts about the drinking of many of our favorite beverages. Here we go. . . .
The spot on the planet with the highest per capita consumption of wine is a tiny Pacific island of Norfolk with a population of approximately 1800. Their rate of consumption per capita is 77.8 bottles per year. (If I’d known this years ago I would have changed my retirement plans.)
And to continue my somewhat combative relationship with religion it should be noted that the Vatican City comes in a close second. Those jolly cardinals, priests, and Pope have a annual per capita consumption of 76 bottles. (Can I get a BIG AMEN!!)
Just to be fair the following five locations aren’t far behind: Andorra, Croatia, Portugal, Slovenia, and Macedonia. (This final tidbit makes me smile a little. France comes in a measly eighth.)
Since I’m a confirmed hater of beer I’ll give a big shout out to Czechoslovakia who is far and away the winner of annual per capita beer consumption at 142.6 liters.Austria and Germany are third andforth and Poland is sixth. The U.S.A. places 17th while the British bitter beer and port consumption brings them in at 28th place. (No wonder we revolted.)
Lets talk about something I love – WHISKEY. The UK is well down the list with a per capita consumption of 1.25 liters. India and Ireland come in at 1.24 liters but the big winner in whiskey consumption is surprisingly France at 2.15 liters a year or 87 shots per person. (I guess It takes a lot to make those hairy ladies in France sexually attractive. LOL)
I’m not addressing the world’s vodka consumption today because it would take another lengthy post to even scratch the surface. That topic will be addressed at a later date.
Here I sit sipping a glass of 160 proof Jack Daniels, and I really do mean just “Sipping”. I have to admit it’s really smooth for something that will numb your brain and kick your ass. It has convinced me to once again do a post on “Whiskey”. For most of my 20’s and into my 30’s I was a Cutty Sark lover. Working as a police officer in a department filled with scotch drinkers I fit right in. In my late thirties I began making my own wine and for the next fifteen years I drank my somewhat interesting homemade wines and occasionally would spring for a more expensive bottle or two. Then in my seventies I was diagnosed with colon cancer and for 7 months the chemotherapy turned me into a teetotaler. For some inexplicable reason it also made it impossible for me to drink wine of any kind. So, I was returned to the mothers milk of whiskey lovers, Jack Daniels. It was like coming home again. This whiskey lover will now lay a few bits of whiskey trivia on you. Pour a drink and enjoy.
This excerpt was taken from a collection of medical recipes from the 15th century:For deafness . . . Take the bile of a hare with aqua vit and the milk of a woman’s breast in the same quantity and mix them well together and put them in the ear. This is a sure cure for deafness.
According to the Guinness Book of World Records in 2018, the oldest bottle of whiskey still left unopened to the world is Baker’s Pure Rye Whiskey, distilled in 1847.
There is a quote from Mr. Tommy Cooper: “I’m on a whiskey diet, I lost three days already.”
Kentucky is home to more barrels of maturing bourbon than people. Kentucky’s population was approximately 4.5 million people while the barrels of whiskey totaled 91 million.
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Here is a quote from one of my favorites, Mark Twain:
“I always take Scotch whiskey at night as a preventative of toothache. I have neverhad the toothache, and what is more, I never intend to have it.”
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In 2019, 1.3 billion bottles of Scotch whiskey were bottled. If you laid all these bottles end-to-end they would stretch 350,000 km or 217,000 miles, or 90% of the distance to the moon! Moonshine indeed.
This last post is a quote by Joel Rosenberg and is one of my all-time favorites. If I wasn’t going to be cremated when I pass I would’ve have certainly requested this on my tombstone.
“I’m a simple man. All I want is enough sleep for two normal men,
enough whiskey for three, and enough women for four.”
I discovered over the years that the older you get the more reminiscing you do and I’m still not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I’ve always been a believer of worrying about the future not the past and that hasn’t changed a whole lot. I’ll be turning 78 years old in August of this year and I’m amazed. I never thought I’d live this long because of my rough and tumble attitude towards living. As I was reminiscing about my long and somewhat interesting life I wondered, what some of the other people that I read about deal with their aging after the age of 70. I always jokingly told anyone who’d listen that after 70 I would retire, sit on my porch with a drink, and smoke as much weed as I could get my hands on until I passed on. Little did I know that I’d be buying my cannabis at a convenience store in gummy form. One of life’s many miracles. I thought a little reflection on my current lifestyle should be matched against some of our more famous or infamous celebrities.
Age 70
Socrates is condemned to die for corrupting the minds of Athenian youth.
Me: I made dozens of bottles of wine, and then spent a few months drinking them.
Age 71
Nelson Mandela was released from a South African prison, after 20 years of incarceration.
Me: Completed a few graphic paintings of scantily clad buxom young women. Then I drank some more wine and sat and looked at them. And yes, I still do.
Age 72
The Marquis de Sade takes a new, 15-year-old lover.
Me: I looked for a 15-year-old lover but forgot why.
Page 73
Walt Stack completes the Ironman Triathlon in 26 hours, 20 minutes.
Me: I did 1000 steps in one day, and my faithful Fit Bit was so amazed it exploded.
Age 74
Albert Einstein announces his unified field theory (but it didn’t hold up).
Me: Drank more wine, contemplated some of my erotic paintings, and worked hard trying to remember the names of the models.
Age 75
Fanny Garrison Villard founds the Women’s Peace Society.
Me: I founded and celebrated the Maine chapter of the Jack Daniels Fan Club. I also considered making a Hag to their distillery in Tennessee.
Age 76
Charles Foster Kane, of Citizen Kane, whispers his immortal, confounding clue, “Rosebud”.
Me: I decided after rereading Citizen Kane that I needed a lot more Jack Daniels. It’s the only way to defend myself against the boredom of Orson Welles and his writings. Little did he know I once had a fat little gerbil named Orson who never really bored me at all.
Age 77
Grandma Moses takes up painting in a serious manner.
Me: After 16 years of my so-called retirement, I bought a lot more weed and a case of a really good Chardonnay in preparation for the start of our three grandson’s 2024 Little League debuts.
Today is my favorite kind of day. I spent yesterday shopping for ingredients and today making thirteen quarts of super-hot chunky black bean and roasted corn salsa. It’s a lot of work but worth every minute of labor. My better-half was born and raised in south Texas and insists salsa should be nice and smooth and hot. I prefer my salsa to be chunky and OMG hot so I jacked up the heat a little because good salsa should always make your head sweat. Enough about my salsa. Let’s talk about some scary food facts since I’m in the mood.
While the results of water contamination tests are made public, manufacturers of bottled water do not divulge their test results.
Almost 99% of imported food is never inspected by the FDA or the USDA, the two agencies responsible for protecting Americans from tainted products.
One in five office coffee mugs contains fecal bacteria and E. coli, which can cause diarrhea, food poisoning, and infections.
Vegetarians beware: many low-fat and nonfat yogurts and sweets contain gelatin, which is made from animal tendons, ligaments, and bones.
Even when grapes are harvested by hand, some insects wind up in the picker’s baskets. Workers simply don’t have time to inspect every grape individually as they work.
Long a staple of the American diet and US economy, corn is a high-carbohydrate, high-glycemic food that fattens up cattle and does the same to humans who consume it in excess.
Beef cattle evolved to survive on grass but are regularly fed corn, which has disastrous effects on their digestive systems, requiring a constant regimen of antibiotics to keep them healthy.
Peanut allergies afflict an estimated 4 million Americans and can be life-threatening. Almost half of annual emergency room visits and two thirds of deaths due to anaphylaxis are the result of peanut allergies.
Independent studies show that bell peppers, celery, kale, carrots, lettuce, and potatoes are the vegetables most likely to expose consumers to pesticides, despite being rinsed and peeled.
A diet high in processed meats like sausage, hot dogs, and luncheon meats increase the risk of pancreatic cancer. Chemical reactions that occur during the preparation of these meets yields carcinogens.
I’m sitting here in my man-cave reading a novel that is quite romantic. I’m not a usual reader of romance novels but there’s a reason I’m reading this one. For the last nine days in a row my better-half has requested my presence to watch Rom-Coms after dinner. I have to admit that I enjoy some of them but the great majority are kind of trashy and stupid. She insists that these movies are the epitome of romance, I couldn’t disagree more. Over the years I’ve been called many things, some good and some not so good by a variety of ladies. I can honestly say I have never been called romantic and again I disagree with them as well. In my opinion women should not be the final word on whether a man is romantic or not. On one or two occasions I’ve actually had women call me out in front of others for being unromantic, and for the last time I again absolutely disagree.
I recall an old movie that I thoroughly enjoyed watching starring Steve Martin and Daryl Hannah called Roxanne. It was a mushy silly takeoff on some Shakespearean story and at one point in the story Steve Martin serenaded Daryl Hannah at her bedroom window. If that’s a requirement for being identified as romantic, forget about it. I may be a lot of things but a singer I’m not. If I attempted to serenade a woman two things would immediately occur. First, she would cover her ears and slam the window shut. Secondly, the police would arrest me for “disturbing the peace” and “being a public nuisance”. So scratch serenading off my list of romantic things I could do.
I love reading but reading Shakespeare and stuffy poetry aloud to a woman I’ve just become interested in isn’t going to happen either. I’m more likely to recite some of my own poetry which is usually funny and a little off-color. You know what I mean, “There once was a man from Nantucket . . .”. Strike two for me. Maybe my critics were right after all. Allow me to continue my thought processes before you make your final decision.
I’ve been known to create a CD or two filled with romantic Lionel Richie love songs which I must say works like a charm. I’ve also been known to send flowers on occasion but unfortunately only to my mother on Mother’s Day.
Quite a few times in the past I’ve given IOU’s to various women for foot rubs. I’ve been complimented numerous times about my delicate and sensitive touch but I’ve never fully explained to most of them about my harmless but fun foot fetish. That’s my little secret.
Body massages are always a great approach for intimacy with many wonderful advantages available if done properly. Just so you know, I can massage with the best of them. So give me some points for that.
Taking a woman to dinner can be a pleasurable experience as well. It’s also a pretty good way to guilt them into sex. Spend $20 for the meal and you’ll likely get a long leisurely French kiss at the door. Spend $50 and you get an invitation to come in and play “slap and tickle” on the couch for a while. Spend over $100 for the meal and purchase an expensive bottle of wine and you’ll be swept into the “Promised Land” on the ‘Wings of Angels”. Been there and done that too.
Take them to a movie after that good meal and make sure it’s a tear-jerking “chick flick” and your golden. Dropping a few tears during the love scenes is perfect. Pretend to wipe the tears from your cheek so she can’t see you doing it, but make sure she does. A good meal, a bottle of good wine, a mushy movie, and a tear or two, and she’s yours for the asking. Now, if that’s not romance I don’t know what is.
So what have we learned about me. I like good food and good wine – Check! I like movies – Check! I like to spend time with women – Check! I write off-color and funny poetry – Check! I like massaging the naked bodies and feet of women – Check! I can drop a tear or two if necessary – Check! I like sex – Check! I can sleep over or go home immediately after sex – Your choice!
I think it’s time for a serious rant about this wonderful but addictive society we’re all members of. For years we’ve been slowly retrained to believe that every bad thing we do isn’t our fault. It’s the fault of our parents, our teachers, our bad friends, and last but not least, because of our genetic predisposition for addiction. What it’s finally come down to in this country is the fact that we are not permitted to like anything too much.
When I was growing up we had addictions but in my opinion they were the real deal, drugs and alcohol. It wasn’t until the liberals and courts opened Pandora’s Box and decided that those addictions were really just serious medical conditions. That’s when our real problems began. Those terrible addictions were first declared a sickness, then an excuse for a disability check, and now it’s become the rationale for every bit of bad behavior you can think of. If you like candy too much, you’re addicted to candy. If you like scratching your ass, you’re labeled an addictive ass scratcher. It’s the current trend to label any activity someone likes a little too much as an addiction.
It’s not our fault that we drink too much, take illicit drugs, steal, murder, rape, and assault our children. We can’t help it, it’s a medical issue. We should never be prosecuted or jailed for our bad behavior, just cut us a government disability check because we’re addicted. We’ve become a society that just can’t or won’t deal with personal responsibility.
Government and courts are as responsible as anyone for this. You can commit heinous crimes against society but before you can be convicted you’re required to meet with lawyers, therapists, counselors, priests, nuns, and every once in a while an actual member of law enforcement. You can meet with law enforcement but the Miranda ruling forbids you from talking to them without an attorney present.
The nanny state has made it impossible to deter crime by consistently attempting to remove all of the tools available to law enforcement. If the liberals have their way they would abolish the death penalty and take away all rights from the citizenry to own and carry weapons for their own protection. That will put us all at the mercy of the criminal element who will be armed and dangerous and preying on us at will.
I could easily list three hundred addictions currently available for people to help them escape responsibility. I won’t list them all because most right-thinking people already know how big the list is and what’s on it.
I’ve had my own set of terribly dangerous addictions that I’m forced to deal with everyday. I love eating good food, drinking good wine, watching beautiful women, playing video games, and many others. I’m sure it won’t be long before I’ll also be able to collect a big fat disability check for these terrible addictions.
Maybe under the Biden Administration I can find the help that I obviously need. Maybe I should just turn myself in to the authorities before I’m forced by my medical conditions to commit a crime of some sort. Then I’ll be eligible for free therapy sessions (court-mandated) that will cost the taxpayers thousands of dollars. I’ll get a free court appointed attorney who’ll take me by the hand and lead me to the promised land of free money, free food, and freedom from prosecution due to my medical difficulties. Isn’t America wonderful? Land of the free, not hardly, and home of the brave, not hardly. The only bravery I see these days is from those citizens who’ve volunteered to serve their country by wearing the uniform of our military.
I haven’ t posted anything since the start of the year and I’m feeling a little guilty. Having a blog is like having an ungratful child. It’s a lot of work for which I receive virtually no gratitude. I especially miss the less than friendly emails received from my more liberal readers. My life has been empty without their caustic comments and endless political preaching. I’ve relegated them to a dustly shelf in my mancave where everything that bores me is stored.
Enough of that . . . On to other matters concerning my newest and least satisfying addiction. I’ve known for sometime that I have an addictive personality. As a very young man I had a tremendous taste for beer. It got me into some trouble in my teens and I had to finally let it go. No more of that nasty brew. Then in my twenties I turned my attention to cigarettes and the occasion toke of giggle weed. Both of which hung on until my thirites when I saw the light and quit smoking everything. No more happiness weed and no more cigarettes. I got healthy, hit the gym, and finally (according to my mother) turned myself into a beautiful and productive person.
As the years rolled along I ended my addiction to marriage and lived a rather raucous and crazy few years filled with wine women and song. Yes I’d finally discovered a taste for wine and women but no matter what I did I couldn’t carry a tune. As is usual the combination of wine and women got me into considerable trouble as well. I finally met, fell in love, and settled down with the love-of-my-life, stopped drinking wine and turned instead to brandy.
The next to go was the damn brandy. While I enjoyed the brandy drinking experience it was rather boring and I had to stop. I hate spending that kind of money on alcohol that tastes great but I get no glow. No glow means you got to go and it did. So currently I’ve reduced my addictions to just three. My woman is here to stay, thats #1, and thank god for a continuous supply of Jack Daniels (thats #2). I’ve limited myself to just two or three Jack & Pepsi’s a week (and maybe a few more if we have visitors). Things seem to be working out perfectly almost . . .
My last remaining addiction is without a doubt the worst. I’ve rid myself of a major television addiction 2 years ago when I could no longer stand watching 10 minutes of commercials every half hour. I told Dish Network to cancel my account and signed up immediately with Netflix and Amazon for streaming service. Unfortuneately streaming is a double-edged sword. Being generous I estimate that both streaming services are 80% crap and only 20% of their movies are worth watching unless you want to pay a fee. My newest and worst addiction is to this endless supply of terrible, crappy, and ridiculous movies.
SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME
I’m in dire need of some sort of 12 step program to get me away from this TV. My greatest fear these days is that my better-half will find me alone in the dark, slumped over in my favorite chair, clutching the remote. Dead from dehydration, boredom, and felony eye-slaughter.
As always my better-half and I try use our time wisely. She’d been working for more than a week without any time off and it was burning her out. Finally a rare day-0ff arrived and we wanted to make the most of it. The day was bright and sunny and expected temperatures were to be in the mid-seventies. Perfect! We packed up the car and headed north along to coast to the towns of Brunswick and Bath, Maine.
The drive went smoothly although the summer increase in traffic was immediately obvious. It’s always relaxing to just cruise along the coast, watching the boats, and listening to some good music. We stopped briefly in Brunswick to attend the Strawberry Festival taking place in the town square. A friendly crowd of people enjoying the warm day.
Then we were off to the town of Bath, Maine. It’s most famous feature is the Bath Iron Works. Over the years they’ve build or repaired damn near every American naval vessel. Just up the coast a short distance is a restaurant, the Kennebec Tavern, located on the water with a great view from their rear deck.
We were both starving and were pleasantly surprised by the variety of seafood on the menu. I ordered an extremely dry Malbec wine to go along with my oysters and Caesar salad. The better-half went outside the box a little and ordered a scallop and bacon sandwich with crispy onion rings on the side. Everything was just as delicious as it looks here.
After lunch we took a short walking trip through the town so the better-half could do some shopping. She scored a few items that will magically appear under the Christmas tree in a few months.
The trip home was uneventful and we were ended the day relaxing on the deck. Then it was back to reality with garden watering and paying some much needed attention to the cat. He hates when we leave him alone and he made it immediately obvious by totally ignoring us for an hour.
I found myself awake much too early this morning for some unknown reason. I usually like to get moving around 7am but this morning I was awake at 4:45am and wondering why. Yesterday was a nothing-special day and I had no pressing personal issues preying on my mind . . . so why? I’ll probably never know but it sure is irritating.
Yesterday was a rainy and overcast day which kept me indoors most of the day. I decided to get back to my home brewing tasks and to bottle my batch of Sake that’s been needing my attention for more than a week.
I checked the bottles to be sure that fermentation had truly stopped. Once many years ago I bottled a batch of wine a little too early and was awakened in the middle of the night by exploding bottles. I can’t have that happen again . . . what a mess! Wine making isn’t as complicated as most people think but it does require a reasonable amount of common sense. The minute you forget that fact you’re in trouble. I began the siphoning process which takes no time at all and everything went smoothly.
I decided against using the standard wine corks with this batch. These screw caps work just as well and require much less work for me. It also makes reusing the bottles much easier and I won’t need to exhaust my limited supply of good wine corks.
I was pleased with the overall look and clarity of the Sake and was able to fill twelve half bottles and seven additional full size bottles. More than enough to last me for quite some time.
I was also able to save and store a pint and one half of the Sake yeast which will allow me to make numerous batches in the future and save me money at the same time. It’s all about the yeast!
After the bottling was completed the better-half cooked up a delicious chicken and veggie stir-fry dinner. I cracked open our first bottle of the Sake, warmed it properly, and we toasted the great meal and the Memorial Day holiday.
As summer looms in my future I’ve been attempting to close out some existing projects to make room for what’s to come. My infusion of hot peppers in tequila has finally ended with the hot peppers almost bleached white as you can see. I took a small sample and gave it a taste test and was very very hot. I can’t wait to give it a try in a my first attempt at a Hot Pepper Margarita. I think it will be fine for me and my better-half but I doubt if most people will be able to handle the heat. We’ll see very soon.
‘The Tequila sucks the color and heat from them.’
My second project has been the Sake that’s almost ready for bottling. Within the next few days I’ll begin the bottling process and finally be done with it. It’s taken a little longer than usual due to it’s refusal to clear. It’s looking good now and it also has passed my first taste test.
‘Nice and clear.’
Today I’ll be making my second visit to the Saco Police Department. I’m trying to renew my permit allowing me to carry a concealed weapon for another four years. I’ve held permits in multiple states in the past but I have to say the state of Maine isn’t quite as difficult as some others. My reapplication was only ten pages long and in comparison to some states it’s rather short. I’ve finished the forms, obtained a new and handsome picture of myself, and a check to the city, of course, for $20.00. By far the cheapest fee I’ve ever paid for this constitutional privilege.
everyuselessthing.com 