whiskey

I hope Antarctican visitors to Texarrakis secretly sampled this whiskey.

In the last week, someone from Antarctica paid Texarrakis a visit, and browsed through nearly 20 pages. I don't know why someone from Antarctica would spend what I assume would be their precious internet time on this page, of all places. Maybe researchers and scientists and whoever exists in Antarctica spend a similar amount of time on the internet. I do not know.

Recently though, I came across news that a 12 pack of century old whiskey was found wonderfully preserved underneath Shackelton's old Antarctic shack. In the case were 11 bottles, one half empty. It is now my hope that the very same Antarctic visitor to Texarrakis got a chance to sample this whiskey. If this is the case, and you are our Antarctican friend, please let me know.

It's extremely unlikely though, the crate was discovered in 2006. The only reason it is making a news splash now, is that it has been thawed out in the Canterbury Museum in ChurchChrist, New Zealand. Apparently the museum is shipping samples to the same distillery which succeeded the company that distilled this whiskey is receiving samples of it, in order to reverse engineer the old whiskey back into life. The museum has started a blog called "The Great Whisky Crate Thaw", full of exciting pictures and updates. It is oddly tantalizing. They haven't opened a bottle yet; they are hoping to remove the straw covering within the next few days!

I await this product's arrival!

i remember waking up, and, instead of excitement about the impending trip across the country i was going to start in a few hours, i only felt frustrated with myself that i hadn't packed everything the night before, and had to do it all right then. part of this feeling came from being slightly hungover. the night prior to that morning, i had pulled the minivan into my garage to pack it. my mom had taken me grocery shopping at one of those wholesale clubs, to feed us on the trip. i was throwing, and haphazardly organizing all of this packaged food in the luggage space of the car, when i decided this would be an easier task if done drunk.

so i went upstairs, and stole a cupfull of my dad's ever present whiskey, and chugged it down. by the time i got back down to the garage, i had, lost any and all interest i had in organizing my car, and instead looked at my hood. well, i thought to myself, i had better do something about this, and fast, i'm running out of light. i was very drunk. i ripped off the layer of duct tape i had on the hood, and, over the course of 4 hours, in the dark, with the help of whiskey and a children's map of the united states, i drew a fairly accurate map of the united states, with the state borders and all. not bad for being really drunk and painting in the dark. anyway, when i woke up that morning, i had to pack.

i had work on a saturday today, from 10 am until 2 pm, which was strange, because i usually don't work weekends. i sluggishly pulled myself out of bed at around 8:00 am, took a shower, and went out the door. i got onto the bus, which came immediately to it's stop, and no one was on it, besides from me and the bus driver. the bus driver seemed to be a short russian man, with flat hair and glasses. i sat up front and chit chatted with the bus driver about the weather and the red sox and all that, he had a slight russian accent which made me feel as if i was talking about secret war plans or something.

i got to forest hills station and transferred to another bus, which left immediately, and transported me to myfinal destination at 9:15 . . . unfortunately 45 minutes before my work actually started, and no one was in the office because it was a saturday. i decided to walk over to a park bench and read my book, the tomb and other tales by hp lovecraft, until 9:55 so i could get back to the office and get to work.

on the way over to my bench, a homeless guy reached out his hand and murmured "spare change son?", to which i smiled and reached in my pocket and handed him a few quarters. "thank you kindly sir, god bless."

i read my book until 9:55, and went back to the office. i got to work. i got crazy people on the phone, since i was waking people out of their beds at 10 in the morning trying to get them to participate in a cancer preventin study. people kept telling me "what? no of course i don't want to do that" or "shut up" and hanging up. i got a few people who said that they're wife or husband didn't want to participate, which is annoying because we're supposed to keep calling back until we actually come into contact with the subject.

at 12 i had a lunch break, and sat in a conference room eating a sandwich, watching people flow by the city street. all of a sudden, i recognized the homeless man i had given change to earlier. he walked bye, and had a very confused look on his face. he was holding a bottle of whiskey in a brown paper bag in one hand, and the other he placed on the window to steady himself. he then fell down onto a small child, knocking her over and making her cry.

out of the blue came a police cruiser, to which the police hopped out, and walked towards the drunk homeless guy. he looked at them and threw his bottle towards them, but missed horrible and hit the side of their car. the cops ran towards him now, and pushed his face against the sidewalk and handcuffed him, then picked him up by the arms and threw him into the back of the cruiser. as one cop, who was particularly big, wiped his hands together and shook his head with a smirk.

man that's the last time i give that guy my spare change.