Whiskey is mostly used as an alcoholic drink but many not know that is good for a cold. maybe think you have the sniffle? dont use medicine that cause a giant super virus use whickey. makes you happy too. now who wouldnt want to use that?
bad drug i dont like it not good fopr you kill you tudey if you drink you will die bad people only for bad people they make it for bad people underaged drinking for emotional sad problems i dont want to do it it will kill me i dont like alcohol it is bad for you i dont want to get drunk it will kill you.
Darren Chai
I have a friend that claims to like the likes of whiskey but tends to just like the idea of it due to a certain song by Johnny Hobo and the Freight Trains. WHISKEY IS MY KINDAAAA LULLABY. Yeah, whiskey sounds pretty good right now considering I’m sitting on my couch on a Sunday watching a taped performance of Prince.
Victoria
I’m not a drinker. I see whiskey as the way to find coping used by lost souls with no connection to self. One loses in the end; not for flavor or for life but one’s character.
Bonnie MacEvoy
Whiskey makes me think of Fire Whiskey from HP. Never had it, but want to. It’s a very romantic world that I think speaks of wisdom, and can only, or should only, be drunk in small amounts. Cartoons of people shooting fire out of their mouth when they drink it. Throat on fire.
im always thinking about what my life will be like in the futur, or if i should drink all of the time. brianna drinks all the time, i want to try one. will i be a light weight? k bye. i have nothing
brianna
“Come on Sid time to go home.”
“Leave me alone.” Sid brushed aside his arm and took another swig of the whiskey bottle.
“It’ll all look better in the morning,” urged George.
“The bitch, wait till I get my hands on her.” Sid wiped his sleeve across his mouth, lifted the bottle to his lips and took another swig.
Helen
it drinks like a swarm of killer fishes swimming into the canals of your brain breathing seductive honey slicing deeper and deeper into the gentle vein. Seeping and seeping into your heart, that taste at the back of your throat means something and as your voice gets louder you see what it really means.
Andreas Tibbles
I love whiskey. it’s funny how there are different spelings depending on what kind of whiskey it is. like scotch is spelled differently thatn the rest of them. they just want to be special i suppose. i love whiskeys though
they’re sweet. deep. refreshing to drink straight. i love it. i take them neat and cleran topo. adding ice can be ok with some, but you only need one cube. not a ton,.. you never want to drink a whiskyey cold. it kills all the flavor of it. you can’t appreciarett it when it’s cold.
your amber nectar. days gone by in whirling headaches and thumping hearts. ‘guess what stuart?! we got engaged.’ Glyn, glen morange for christmas and mother. mother with you. there is no one else. just us in our glass case, swimming sleepily in lifeblood.
Eleanorgee
I drank so much whiskey I projectile vomited into a cop’s face when he pulled me over and asked me if I’d been drinking. You should have seen the look on his face before he pulled his gun out and tried to fire it at my head, except the gun jammed as he kept pulling the trigger over and over.
DTman
Whiskey was the only thing that could get James to do anything. No woman, no man could get a hold of him. Until one day though, he stumbled into church. That day would change his life forever.
I had my first glass with my dad on Christmas day. It was watered down, harmless for us non-seasoned drinkers. Well, I am more seasoned than he thinks I am. But i appreciated its lack of potency, the water instead bringing out the more rubbery tastes of the golden liquid. I felt like a man at that first sip with the best man I have ever known.
I once asked my father why he drank whiskey so much. Okay, I guess I never asked him that. I never really found it too much of a problem. Even on Christmas he would get really wasted and fight the cat. It was sort of a tradition. Really I just looked up to the guy, but you know, didn’t drink as much cause I hate the taste.
Lucas
The smell of alcohol overwhelmed her senses. The stupid waiter had spilt the whiskey all over the floor and table. She wanted to leave but she couldn’t until she met who she came her for. She looked over her shoulder hoping to see him.
The whiskey bottle dropped down the carpeted staircase as she stumbled up to her room. Six year old Kate took the bottle in her had, unsure of the poison that had captured her mother like a hopeless fish in a net.
I do not drink much. Not so much because I can’t or because of any religious restraint. I’m a rasta, so tehnically I’m not supposed to mix my weed and wine, but that’s pretty much a non-issue: I don’t drink.
It may not, therefore, come to you as a surprise when she told me that she had my prize was a giant bottle of Dragon Whiskey. I shuddered.
dovi
The cowboy drinks whiskey when he wants to sit in the saloon and survey his environment i wish i didn’t have to be here its too much this time period i wish the future i dont have to kill and suffer with my whiskey all day long i aim to kill you oh yeah yeah theres only room for one here
Christopher
I don’t drink. I don’t think I ever will. Because of my father.
casey
scotland and the hills and the highlands and old men in hats with dogs walking about and in pubs and the smell of it brewing and the men in kilts and getting drunk bitter clammy thick orange dark cold but warm insides
Rowy
You reach for my hand and pull me close and because I have horrible balance, I fall and end up on your lap, my face just inches away from that danger zone. You laugh before I can get embarrassed and slide your arms underneath mine and pull me up, up, up until our faces are mere millimeters away and I can smell the whiskey on your lips.
Whiskey. Death in a bottle. Drink to remember, drink to forget. Kill the clock, reincarnate the party. Drink. Drink. Drink.
Ashley Kate
drunk. fun. scotland. train ride. right out of the bottle. sharp and bitter. exotic. fun. growing up. studying abroad. tyler and cliff. laughter. shudder. memories.
rebecca
I rarely celebrate. Even my own birthday this past year I did nothing special or large for. It’s not that I don’t know how to. It’s that I don’t make time to. Yet when everything slows down and settles in, it’s the single malt scotch that makes a difference.
A glass must be beautifully humble to hold its golden breath that brings sleep and warmth and comfort and eventually death to those who wish hard enough.
nannan
this is a drink that both my dad and uncles enjoy. not to mention the rest of the men in my family. i don’t recall any of the women in the mccullough family having an affinity for it. perhaps this says something about how we different sexes react to different things.
mccullough
enem ne güzel dedin sen öyle olsada içsek burbon içmedim bak o olsa daha iyi oludu enem gece gece canım çekti
jacques baraud
People drink to forget. They forget parts of themselves, or their past, or other things. The purpose of the drink is that it shuts down parts of yourself that you don’t want active.
river take my mind and bust zooters in my highwater overalls then we go muddin on the 4th of july with no pants american flag an chewing tobacco party with a wolverine with no pants on then more coke and zooters and whiskey river take my mind.
Arlo Buckredy
well. i dont know. i dont drink anymore. and i never really drank whiskey. so i dont have to much to say about it…
He sat quietly back in his chair with the glass in his hand. Sighing, he brought it to his face– but then his hand shook, and he was left with a lap full of whiskey.
“Still trying too hard, eh, John?” The voice was amused, restrained.
John closed his eyes. She was still there. As usual.
Tuatha114
poison. something that changes people as surely as the earth’s rotation changes day to night and night back to day. it is something that makes us different, alien. people lose control, they lose their lives, their friends and family. it’s a simple word, but the meaning runs deep into your blood and destroys you.
Whiskey and I are friends from the past. We go back a long time. I would finish writing this but i rather finish this bottle.
panda
I swear to god, a flying unicorn just walked through that chimney. Cant you see all the pretty colors? what about……..woaaaahhhg man! your….you’re spinnin’ duuuuude! Were….what is….what is this stuff? I had like, 16 cups. Its whiskey? thought it was apple juice…
Coke and whiskey, Call of Duty, friends and older brothers, it was a lovely night.
PygmyBlue
Ok, so imagine this. I was sitting at the bar, drinking my 5th whisky, and youll never believe what happened! A talking horse came in, and he was fallowed by Big Bird! He sat down next to me, on my left, and big bird sat to my right! They bolth ordered “Elmo’s world” but dont ask me what that is. Anyways, I passed out, and I woke up here! Thanks for the free baby! Love, soon-to-be-pregnent-because-of-whiskey
What can I say? I’ve never had it. Tasted wine once. Nasty stuff. Burns anything it touches. Stay away or it will find an
k.1.5
i think whiskey is great i like to drink it with coke. i had whiskey with this guy i briefly dated and it was pretty good i think he was trying to get me drunk but it didnt work. I just had one drink i did like how it tasted though. my grandpa drinks whiskey alot. He seems to really like it ALOT!
Hera Leigh
Where?
Here.
Is this really the result of my actions?
Sorrow drowner.
Kills.
Evasive action.
Yes, pour me another.
oper
I tasted like the days when they both lived happily, days when it wasn’t about trying to figure out how to make ends meet but simply enjoying the time they spent together. Now the whiskey served as a means of drowning out the heartache, drinking to the point where all was forgotten before having to face the pain of reality once again.
Whiskey is mostly used as an alcoholic drink but many not know that is good for a cold. maybe think you have the sniffle? dont use medicine that cause a giant super virus use whickey. makes you happy too. now who wouldnt want to use that?
bad drug i dont like it not good fopr you kill you tudey if you drink you will die bad people only for bad people they make it for bad people underaged drinking for emotional sad problems i dont want to do it it will kill me i dont like alcohol it is bad for you i dont want to get drunk it will kill you.
I have a friend that claims to like the likes of whiskey but tends to just like the idea of it due to a certain song by Johnny Hobo and the Freight Trains. WHISKEY IS MY KINDAAAA LULLABY. Yeah, whiskey sounds pretty good right now considering I’m sitting on my couch on a Sunday watching a taped performance of Prince.
I’m not a drinker. I see whiskey as the way to find coping used by lost souls with no connection to self. One loses in the end; not for flavor or for life but one’s character.
Whiskey makes me think of Fire Whiskey from HP. Never had it, but want to. It’s a very romantic world that I think speaks of wisdom, and can only, or should only, be drunk in small amounts. Cartoons of people shooting fire out of their mouth when they drink it. Throat on fire.
im always thinking about what my life will be like in the futur, or if i should drink all of the time. brianna drinks all the time, i want to try one. will i be a light weight? k bye. i have nothing
“Come on Sid time to go home.”
“Leave me alone.” Sid brushed aside his arm and took another swig of the whiskey bottle.
“It’ll all look better in the morning,” urged George.
“The bitch, wait till I get my hands on her.” Sid wiped his sleeve across his mouth, lifted the bottle to his lips and took another swig.
it drinks like a swarm of killer fishes swimming into the canals of your brain breathing seductive honey slicing deeper and deeper into the gentle vein. Seeping and seeping into your heart, that taste at the back of your throat means something and as your voice gets louder you see what it really means.
I love whiskey. it’s funny how there are different spelings depending on what kind of whiskey it is. like scotch is spelled differently thatn the rest of them. they just want to be special i suppose. i love whiskeys though
they’re sweet. deep. refreshing to drink straight. i love it. i take them neat and cleran topo. adding ice can be ok with some, but you only need one cube. not a ton,.. you never want to drink a whiskyey cold. it kills all the flavor of it. you can’t appreciarett it when it’s cold.
your amber nectar. days gone by in whirling headaches and thumping hearts. ‘guess what stuart?! we got engaged.’ Glyn, glen morange for christmas and mother. mother with you. there is no one else. just us in our glass case, swimming sleepily in lifeblood.
I drank so much whiskey I projectile vomited into a cop’s face when he pulled me over and asked me if I’d been drinking. You should have seen the look on his face before he pulled his gun out and tried to fire it at my head, except the gun jammed as he kept pulling the trigger over and over.
Whiskey was the only thing that could get James to do anything. No woman, no man could get a hold of him. Until one day though, he stumbled into church. That day would change his life forever.
I had my first glass with my dad on Christmas day. It was watered down, harmless for us non-seasoned drinkers. Well, I am more seasoned than he thinks I am. But i appreciated its lack of potency, the water instead bringing out the more rubbery tastes of the golden liquid. I felt like a man at that first sip with the best man I have ever known.
I once asked my father why he drank whiskey so much. Okay, I guess I never asked him that. I never really found it too much of a problem. Even on Christmas he would get really wasted and fight the cat. It was sort of a tradition. Really I just looked up to the guy, but you know, didn’t drink as much cause I hate the taste.
The smell of alcohol overwhelmed her senses. The stupid waiter had spilt the whiskey all over the floor and table. She wanted to leave but she couldn’t until she met who she came her for. She looked over her shoulder hoping to see him.
The whiskey bottle dropped down the carpeted staircase as she stumbled up to her room. Six year old Kate took the bottle in her had, unsure of the poison that had captured her mother like a hopeless fish in a net.
I do not drink much. Not so much because I can’t or because of any religious restraint. I’m a rasta, so tehnically I’m not supposed to mix my weed and wine, but that’s pretty much a non-issue: I don’t drink.
It may not, therefore, come to you as a surprise when she told me that she had my prize was a giant bottle of Dragon Whiskey. I shuddered.
The cowboy drinks whiskey when he wants to sit in the saloon and survey his environment i wish i didn’t have to be here its too much this time period i wish the future i dont have to kill and suffer with my whiskey all day long i aim to kill you oh yeah yeah theres only room for one here
I don’t drink. I don’t think I ever will. Because of my father.
scotland and the hills and the highlands and old men in hats with dogs walking about and in pubs and the smell of it brewing and the men in kilts and getting drunk bitter clammy thick orange dark cold but warm insides
You reach for my hand and pull me close and because I have horrible balance, I fall and end up on your lap, my face just inches away from that danger zone. You laugh before I can get embarrassed and slide your arms underneath mine and pull me up, up, up until our faces are mere millimeters away and I can smell the whiskey on your lips.
Whiskey. Death in a bottle. Drink to remember, drink to forget. Kill the clock, reincarnate the party. Drink. Drink. Drink.
drunk. fun. scotland. train ride. right out of the bottle. sharp and bitter. exotic. fun. growing up. studying abroad. tyler and cliff. laughter. shudder. memories.
I rarely celebrate. Even my own birthday this past year I did nothing special or large for. It’s not that I don’t know how to. It’s that I don’t make time to. Yet when everything slows down and settles in, it’s the single malt scotch that makes a difference.
A glass must be beautifully humble to hold its golden breath that brings sleep and warmth and comfort and eventually death to those who wish hard enough.
this is a drink that both my dad and uncles enjoy. not to mention the rest of the men in my family. i don’t recall any of the women in the mccullough family having an affinity for it. perhaps this says something about how we different sexes react to different things.
enem ne güzel dedin sen öyle olsada içsek burbon içmedim bak o olsa daha iyi oludu enem gece gece canım çekti
People drink to forget. They forget parts of themselves, or their past, or other things. The purpose of the drink is that it shuts down parts of yourself that you don’t want active.
river take my mind and bust zooters in my highwater overalls then we go muddin on the 4th of july with no pants american flag an chewing tobacco party with a wolverine with no pants on then more coke and zooters and whiskey river take my mind.
well. i dont know. i dont drink anymore. and i never really drank whiskey. so i dont have to much to say about it…
He sat quietly back in his chair with the glass in his hand. Sighing, he brought it to his face– but then his hand shook, and he was left with a lap full of whiskey.
“Still trying too hard, eh, John?” The voice was amused, restrained.
John closed his eyes. She was still there. As usual.
poison. something that changes people as surely as the earth’s rotation changes day to night and night back to day. it is something that makes us different, alien. people lose control, they lose their lives, their friends and family. it’s a simple word, but the meaning runs deep into your blood and destroys you.
Whiskey and I are friends from the past. We go back a long time. I would finish writing this but i rather finish this bottle.
I swear to god, a flying unicorn just walked through that chimney. Cant you see all the pretty colors? what about……..woaaaahhhg man! your….you’re spinnin’ duuuuude! Were….what is….what is this stuff? I had like, 16 cups. Its whiskey? thought it was apple juice…
Coke and whiskey, Call of Duty, friends and older brothers, it was a lovely night.
Ok, so imagine this. I was sitting at the bar, drinking my 5th whisky, and youll never believe what happened! A talking horse came in, and he was fallowed by Big Bird! He sat down next to me, on my left, and big bird sat to my right! They bolth ordered “Elmo’s world” but dont ask me what that is. Anyways, I passed out, and I woke up here! Thanks for the free baby! Love, soon-to-be-pregnent-because-of-whiskey
What can I say? I’ve never had it. Tasted wine once. Nasty stuff. Burns anything it touches. Stay away or it will find an
i think whiskey is great i like to drink it with coke. i had whiskey with this guy i briefly dated and it was pretty good i think he was trying to get me drunk but it didnt work. I just had one drink i did like how it tasted though. my grandpa drinks whiskey alot. He seems to really like it ALOT!
Where?
Here.
Is this really the result of my actions?
Sorrow drowner.
Kills.
Evasive action.
Yes, pour me another.
I tasted like the days when they both lived happily, days when it wasn’t about trying to figure out how to make ends meet but simply enjoying the time they spent together. Now the whiskey served as a means of drowning out the heartache, drinking to the point where all was forgotten before having to face the pain of reality once again.