sign up or log in for additional features. (It's free!)
A shattered glass and golden liquid staining the floor. The clock chimes midnight. How long have I sat here holding his collar, tears streaming down my face. Come back!
By Linda URL on 01.09.2014
pije dzisiaj bourbon, chociaż nie bardzo widzę róźnice w stosunku od whisky, brandy czy koniaku. Podobno jest to bardzo dobry alkohol. Historia bourbonu została zagubiona przez wieki.
By adam on 01.09.2014
Bourbon, znowu bourbon, może po tym jak 3 razy coś o tym pisałem wreszcieo dowiem się co to dokładnie za akolohol. Chociaż chciałbym móc napisać tekst z udziałem innego słowa. no zobaczymy. skoro koniak podajesz w koniakówce, to bourbon podajesz w burbonówce? !
I imagine the taste of bourbon, how it would sting my virgin lips. I imagine what you tasted like after a shot of whiskey in my name. I have drank alcohol, but nothing is as heady as your slurring words.
By Mara URL on 01.09.2014
Are we talking about that bore with a bun who lives down the road and drinks whisky as if there is no tomorrow ?
By val johnstone on 01.09.2014
Drink, drink to forget, bury your tears in the bottom of the bottle, smile all the while. Let them laugh, let them stare, as you stumble through the crowd, you found your haven.
By Tathar on 01.09.2014
All I know is that is is a type of whiskey. I don’t know much about alcohol since I don’t drink.
By Muhammad on 01.09.2014
My girlfriend Hapy loves bourbon. I think it’s a Kentucky thing, as she’s spent some time there and seems to like it. She vacations there and I suspect she’d like to move there someday.
I on the other hand don’t like Bourbon… or Kentucky.
But I do love Hapy.
By Don The Idea Guy URL on 01.09.2014
Just hated it. That’s all. The smell, the idea, the thoughts of his folks. Bourbon time they used to call it. They would get out the bourbon. As a kid he didn’t know what the hell alcohol was but he knew it was a bad time. He knew nights at the house and grandpa’s were scary nights. Nightmares starting up before bed. As an adult he learned the different types of whiskey and he learned their effects first hand and the changes it made in a man and the way he could be during Bourbon time.
By DMM URL on 01.09.2014
The bottle was drained of bourbon, the tobacco scraped out of each tin, as the dark, rich smell of cider could be tracked from the kitchen. A drunken Mabel stirred eggs around in a pan as the pot beside her bubbled, the cinnamon apple odor permeating the air all the way up the stairs, waking up the inebriated guests from their self-imposed slumber.
By Belinda Roddie URL on 01.09.2014
He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and took a big swig of bourbon. Boy it had been a long day. It felt good to get off his feet and just relax for a while. The bourbon allowed him to go into a relaxed state of mind and forget his worries, even if just for a while.
By Chellie on 01.09.2014
By Don The Idea Guy on 01.09.2014
He needed to relax. Let his mind go. He didn’t want to feel anything anymore. His heart hurt but he couldn’t talk to anyone about why. He reached for his bourbon and poured a full glass, adding ice to hear the satisfying and comforting clink of ice against the solid heavy-bottomed glass.
By Sarah on 01.09.2014
The thing about bourbon biscuits is that, whilst they are so amazing and beautiful, you cannot have the cream without the biscuit, nor the biscuit with out the cream. The cream makes the biscuit moist and flavoursome, whilst the biscuit gives the overall “crunch” effect. Bourbon biscuits, as a whole, are amazing.
By Caitlin on 01.09.2014
Too much, way too much in my younger years….Jack Daniels…..such a status symbol in the younger crowd to be able to hold your liquor, until the new DUI laws went into place. Who, me? Keep up with the laws? Sheesh! I could barely focus on my next step, due to my lifelong brain fog – they used to call it “airhead”, let alone figure out a plan for life that kept me safe, and others as well…..and what was I to do with all that social anxiety and emotional damage from my childhood/adolescence for which no counselor or therapist had ever given me constructive guidance about how to deal with it on my own, especially the preverbal stuff and stuff from the womb…..
By Beverly on 01.09.2014
Oh bourbon is like the milk from the gods – it is my mantra and has been for many years – it is so silky and sometimes I just can’t get enough – though i do talk about in much more than i use it.
By Tree Faerie on 01.09.2014
i’m sitting at the bar with this psycho. he has a big patch over his left eye. greasy black hair slipping across his face.
“another one!” he shouts at the bartender.
a bourbon comes sliding down the wet bar and lands in his palm.
By Sam on 01.09.2014
The bottle of bourbon fell to the ground and he growled menacingly,
“Who do you think you are?” He whispered, the young boy to freeze
By Kira on 01.09.2014
I’d take it at your place, on the rocks, or straight up if you don’t got no ice, but you wouldn’t have me and I got no argument with that so I won’t even ask – better I keep walking under the hazy yellow lamplight – Lafitte’s ain’t far to go for a few Old Crows – and when the bartender gets that look like one more an’ he won’t serve me no more, I’ll sneak the last glass out the door, drink it on the way to the graveyard, pull up a stone and sleep like a baby til morn
By Miss Alister URL on 01.09.2014
i have no idea what bourbon is or what it is. it means nothing to me at this point and i don’t even know why im writing about it. all i know is that it sounds like wine or liquor of some sort.
By charlie on 01.09.2014
Kentucky. My lovely friend Corey. Rock n’ roll. Swagger. Delicious burning mouth and throat. Loose. Warm. Chocolate. Decadent. Homey. Grass and horses.
By girldownthehall URL on 01.09.2014
oh the sounds and smells of the street in New Orleans.
on the other hand, Kentucky will do just fine as well.
Sweet and smokey. warm. fuzzy. good to the last drop. over ice- on the rocks. just enjoy.
By kelly on 01.09.2014
the heavy stench was on her lips
as she staggered down the stairs
and her brightly painted
down and her
hair fell over
her drawn face
covering her now drunk
makeup that everyone in
By sevenwords on 01.09.2014
The bourbon burned viciously on it’s path from to her stomach, but it failed to erase the taste of whatever it was that had died in her mouth. She grimaced, blinking heavily in the dim light as she slid the glass across the surface of the table.
By Sheila URL on 01.09.2014
Drawing in this glass of bourbon:
only this one, promise.
Tomorrow is going to be a new day.
a new chance; unique opportunity –
tomorrow for sure
but not tonight.
I need something strong among these pale stars.
I have to forget everything.
“Pour me another one,
you’re a good man.”
By gargouillis on 01.09.2014
JP at Thanksgiving
Makes this addictive pecan pie
With bourbon whipped cream
And it’s like you forget there is any alcohol involved
And then I remember my friend
Who at not even 23 got through all
12 steps of the AA
And not that that has anything to do with pie
It’s just how can something that’s so innocent
cause so much trouble?
By Ellie on 01.09.2014
Confronting Tim was impractical. It’s not that Tim was directly an asshole to anyone, but his sense of humor is insults disguised as sarcasm. This didn’t bode well with the already hyper-sensitive general populace of his workforce.
“Jesus fucking Christ man, grow a pair!” even his laugh sounded snide.
He just didn’t get it. Social normalcy doesn’t come naturally, it’s imposed.
By Michelle URL on 01.09.2014
He sits at the bar, greasy hair hanging limply over his dull, dark eyes. He stares. He’s tired, can’t think, doesn’t want to think. How could one think after he’d done such a thing?
He’d killed someone. A friend. A friend he’d thought he could never betray.
And yet he’d betrayed him in the worst way possible.
How could he do such a thing? How could he have ever thought that what he was doing was right?
By Terra on 01.09.2014
These days, people are putting bourbon into everything. I swear to god if someone tries to offer me bourbon ice cream one more time, I’m going to throw something at their face.
By nodochinko on 01.09.2014
Subway Bourbon Chicken does not contain alcohol!
This is a sign that has never left my brain.
Some guy just said, “Hey I’ve had 5 of these sandwiches and I’m not feeling it! I just feel bloated!”
By Rover on 01.09.2014
i can smell the bourbon off your breath,
you’ve definitely have been drinking tonight
i wish i could take your pain away
pass the drink now won’t ya
By Maryam on 01.09.2014
Kentucky’s finest color lands in a glass made for bourbon.
By Tom Atha URL on 01.09.2014
My aunt’s dog’s name is Bourbon. He’s old. He’s blind now, and I think he’s deaf too. I think he’s already asking to be put down or to die, but… Well.. I guess she doesn’t want to let him go yet. I think he’s suffering and it’s sad.
By Thang Cel on 01.09.2014
sure, i think about our moments
the times we’ve shared
i think about new years half the day
as the sun comes up,
as you dry my eyes.
i quit all the things i love,
it’s only about time i’ve chosen to quit you.
Maybe i anticipated it all wrong
quitting you cold turkey
only set me off.
I’m ready to be over it,
over like the moon’s far side:
By Hayden on 01.09.2014
we were sitting in his office, he was looking so handsome in that suit in tie. Me in my silk red dress with the slip up the side, there was no doubt I was trying to impress him. He poured the bourbon over ice for two and handed me my glass. The first sip was dangerous and the rest of the night is history…
By anali on 01.09.2014
are you shitting me – the first word that comes up on this thing is booze – and a whisky-style spirit to boot. Like i need any fucking encouragement in that deoartment. You want to know what I think about Bourbon? I love it. It has that smoother, sweet edge that really appeals to the strong spirit drinking alcoholic that dwells within. i have had nights aplenty on the stuff, crawling around on the carpet and puking in the sink. wonderful. I tend not to buy it these days as a matter of course – i prefer a standard famous grouse, but it’s still got appeal. got a bottle for christmas.
By andy on 01.09.2014
The bourbon, smooth burnt amber in a crystal glass, never touched her lips that he could see. It never did, not to his experience, at least. But, no matter the time of day – or night – of their meetings, it was always there. Liquid gold, shimmering in its’ incandescent prison.
By S.C. Lovelace on 01.09.2014
he drank whisky and rye, just like the song. or was that how it went? tonight it was bourbon. on the rocks. glass after glass, because who knows what tomorrow will bring? the bartender always made polite conversation. the place was otherwise empty this time of day, and he sat alone at the bar, empty glasses and spilled liquor along the counter. singing this’ll be the day that i die.
By firelight on 01.09.2014
She picked up two glasses, walking into the kitchen, when the music changed. This song… it was so fitting that this song play now. She turned, casting her gaze over the living room party ground that now was semi-dark and still. A couple was making out on the sofa. Another lay passed on out the floor. She tapped her nail to the song, continuing to the kitchen to wash the smell of bourbon out of her grandmother’s sink.
By Lauren on 01.09.2014
bourbon street steak sizzling flat faced and ruby red, sitting in redwater with potato boats run aground. Clanking glasses, dirty dark carpet okay right now, but with the lights on? Not so much.
By Fred Fingery URL on 01.09.2014
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.