Whisket is a drink that has been around since the begginnning era of bars. It has long been a choice for pioneers on the western frontier. Whiskey comes in many makes and models, but most who prefer it prefer staight brandy
whiskey is a drug. Don’t drink, just inhale. Love, life, whiskey. Whiskey is a smell. You can smell it on a homeless man’s breath if you walk to close. It’s a way of life. Whiskey is an alcoholics favorite day of the year.
“I hereby dub you…whiskey,” the little girl said to the whisk. Her mother smiled, holding back laughter. “What is so funny?” the girl asked.
“Nothing, dear,” the mother said, still smiling.
The bottle caught the light from the hall and glistened, teasing him. It was late, and although just moments before he had wanted nothing more than to collapse in bed, the whiskey called to him. It taunted him with whispers of oblivion, and dreamless sleep.
hannah takes it like a man. until i have to pick her up by the armpits and basically throw her into the cab. and then she swears she has never done that before. but the all too familiar way she moves her dizzy self around in a circle and closes one eye to find her house keys in the depths of her purse, i know she is lying to me.
Life blood, ambrosia to me palette, bane of my ancestors. Oh ruiner of my weekend evenings, how may I count the ways….Rye, bourbon, scotch, irish fuck it let’s go….Wait it isn’t yet four…..Anyways this is the real white mans burden! Broken knuckles and busted skulls. Gotta love it.
the dryness that fills the mouth the mornig after. Its elicious to have one every o often. Maybe for special occasions. Have it with friends anad its definietely a bonding experience. Don’t skimp. The more you spend the better the whiskey
There once was a man who lived down the street from me. His skin was crusty, his eyes droopy, and he smelled of whiskey. His house was falling down around him. Rats could be seen roaming in and out of the falling siding
jack daniels is too much for me sometimes. i drank a lot of it last weekend and sure it made things fun but it was a little unbearable. it kind of makes me feel like a man or like kesha. i don’t know. whiskey sours are supposedly good but i’ve never had one. whiskey reminds me of whisks which you can use to make whipped things.
Whiskey is something that i drink with my friends, it makes you lose weight unlike vodka. When someone drinks whiskey not only do they lose weight in their body they also lose their clothes.
Cheap whiskey and terribly insane nights where the wind is howling and the rooms aren’t quite captivating or warm or just damn loving enough. And so we drank our whiskey, poured it hot and fragmented down our throats, toasting to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, we’d be able to warm our hearts in the matter of a shot.
It is Irish wine that oringinated in none other then Ireland. Whiskey is the reason that golf has eighteen holes because there are eighteen shots in a bottle of whiskey and you got to have something to keep you entertained during such a boring sport. It is a golden hued alcholic beverage that has been the downfall of many a good man but it has also helped people…like Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark when he smashed a bottle of whiskey on a guys head.
this is bad. okay? well, sometimes it’s yummy, other times it’s bad. it does bad things to people, which makes the bad people doing bad things to other. and did i mention it is very expensive?
It is expensive. whiskey also makes me horny, which isn’t that awesome.
i like to drink jameson whiskey in the summer with my best friends down the beach clubs or at the bar. we black out while drinking this whiskey. we enjoy it very much. it’s actually a lot of fun. there are many other types of whiskey out there. many that people like. some that many people don’t like. whiskey is a particular type of drink that is an acquired taste. i will name my dog whiskey.
ahhh its like a sweater for your insides. whiskey flows on cool nights and warm days. whiskey speaks about the times past with a rasp. it shelters us from the cold while exposing our own elements.
Whiskey and wine, you mess up my mind. A song by Matt Costa allows me to rethink the past. it brings me to a place of happiness, joy love, tears, and laughter. Simple college life. Whiskey and wine, the things we practically swore by every night. The things that made love messy. The things that brought out the truth. Take me back to the good old days.
My mother always told me that whiskey is a ‘good drink.’ Not like that lager stuff that is full of chemicals and not like that wine shit that’ll give you head aches. whiskey is for people who look after themselves.
Hunter named his dog Whiskey. I’m not really sure why. He’s not a big drinker… perhaps it’s because he’s rather large… and like the drink, his spirit will hit you hard. He’s a rescue dog, and he’s been through a lot. Maybe it’s symbolic some how. Either way he couldn’t have a better home.
In a bottle, in a glass, in my mind, on my ass. In a bar, on my couch, on the floor, ouch. with myself, with my friend, with myself, once again. some with ice, some with lime, some with nothing, some with time.
He was drunk on whiskey, spitting thick, simple words after the bartender’s diagonal movements, from mugs to spigots to patrons. He aimed and missed, making weighted-down gestures as unfinished as his sentences. When he saw me sit on the stool two down from him, he bobbled his heavy head toward me and I thought I heard him say, ‘Link to the ether and accept the access charges: your soul like a penny a word.’ I left immediately and went back to work on my manuscript.
I wish I could drink whiskey. I drank it once – when I was 21. It is the only drink where I’ve said “I’ll never drink that again!” and I haven’t. Friends assured me I don’t know what I’m missing. Maybe so. But what I can remember isn’t pretty!
The drunken man took another swig of whiskey, slopping most of it down his front as he attempted to climb down from the bar stool. “Sssgood whi-” Hiccup, “-whiskey, tha-” Hiccup, “-t thhhat.” The bartender snickered with a rolling his eyes. The people sitting near the drunk gave him a wide berth as he finally descended from his stool and drunkenly staggered towards the door. “Thhhhank you-oof!” He said, grimacing and “Ooing” in pain as he ran into a couple tables on his way out.
Nasty tasting stuff, gets you pissed and gives a hang over that is almost as bad as wine. My dad used to drink a few glasses a night. made from corn. Old men and scots drink it, although Scots too much
It destroys. It starts as an addiction in one person, but in the end, it hurts many. In the end, it cannot be controlled, and then the devestation hits full force.
take away the “e” and you’ll have my sister and her husbands nickname for me. it makes me happy, and it’s too long of a story. but I light up whenever I hear the word, for a completely different reason than anyone else ever will. :)
only mom and dad can drink it. dad dosent like it yuck achahol. have to be 21. you need an I.D. you need to drink it responivly and you hav to have a desinated
Whisket is a drink that has been around since the begginnning era of bars. It has long been a choice for pioneers on the western frontier. Whiskey comes in many makes and models, but most who prefer it prefer staight brandy
Whiskey? What a terrible prompt for a Baptist to have to encounter! I’m trembling and palpitating just thinking about it. Oh goodness.
whiskey is a drug. Don’t drink, just inhale. Love, life, whiskey. Whiskey is a smell. You can smell it on a homeless man’s breath if you walk to close. It’s a way of life. Whiskey is an alcoholics favorite day of the year.
“I hereby dub you…whiskey,” the little girl said to the whisk. Her mother smiled, holding back laughter. “What is so funny?” the girl asked.
“Nothing, dear,” the mother said, still smiling.
The bottle caught the light from the hall and glistened, teasing him. It was late, and although just moments before he had wanted nothing more than to collapse in bed, the whiskey called to him. It taunted him with whispers of oblivion, and dreamless sleep.
sit around , sing a song, give in to the hopelessness, take another swig
hannah takes it like a man. until i have to pick her up by the armpits and basically throw her into the cab. and then she swears she has never done that before. but the all too familiar way she moves her dizzy self around in a circle and closes one eye to find her house keys in the depths of her purse, i know she is lying to me.
Whisk, he did – Whiskey helped.
Life blood, ambrosia to me palette, bane of my ancestors. Oh ruiner of my weekend evenings, how may I count the ways….Rye, bourbon, scotch, irish fuck it let’s go….Wait it isn’t yet four…..Anyways this is the real white mans burden! Broken knuckles and busted skulls. Gotta love it.
the dryness that fills the mouth the mornig after. Its elicious to have one every o often. Maybe for special occasions. Have it with friends anad its definietely a bonding experience. Don’t skimp. The more you spend the better the whiskey
There once was a man who lived down the street from me. His skin was crusty, his eyes droopy, and he smelled of whiskey. His house was falling down around him. Rats could be seen roaming in and out of the falling siding
Once there was a drunk man
jack daniels is too much for me sometimes. i drank a lot of it last weekend and sure it made things fun but it was a little unbearable. it kind of makes me feel like a man or like kesha. i don’t know. whiskey sours are supposedly good but i’ve never had one. whiskey reminds me of whisks which you can use to make whipped things.
Whiskey is something that i drink with my friends, it makes you lose weight unlike vodka. When someone drinks whiskey not only do they lose weight in their body they also lose their clothes.
i’ve already written about this. I LIKE WHISKEY, OKAY?
his whiskey lingered on her lips long after the kiss ended. smooth and warm.
Cheap whiskey and terribly insane nights where the wind is howling and the rooms aren’t quite captivating or warm or just damn loving enough. And so we drank our whiskey, poured it hot and fragmented down our throats, toasting to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, we’d be able to warm our hearts in the matter of a shot.
It is Irish wine that oringinated in none other then Ireland. Whiskey is the reason that golf has eighteen holes because there are eighteen shots in a bottle of whiskey and you got to have something to keep you entertained during such a boring sport. It is a golden hued alcholic beverage that has been the downfall of many a good man but it has also helped people…like Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark when he smashed a bottle of whiskey on a guys head.
this is bad. okay? well, sometimes it’s yummy, other times it’s bad. it does bad things to people, which makes the bad people doing bad things to other. and did i mention it is very expensive?
It is expensive. whiskey also makes me horny, which isn’t that awesome.
tunes – alley
jones – I like whiskey – actually I have never met a drink I didn’t like.
Id like to move to Whiskey Town and kiss Ryan Adams
i like to drink jameson whiskey in the summer with my best friends down the beach clubs or at the bar. we black out while drinking this whiskey. we enjoy it very much. it’s actually a lot of fun. there are many other types of whiskey out there. many that people like. some that many people don’t like. whiskey is a particular type of drink that is an acquired taste. i will name my dog whiskey.
ahhh its like a sweater for your insides. whiskey flows on cool nights and warm days. whiskey speaks about the times past with a rasp. it shelters us from the cold while exposing our own elements.
Whiskey and wine, you mess up my mind. A song by Matt Costa allows me to rethink the past. it brings me to a place of happiness, joy love, tears, and laughter. Simple college life. Whiskey and wine, the things we practically swore by every night. The things that made love messy. The things that brought out the truth. Take me back to the good old days.
I feel as if it takes a certain kind of person to enjoy whiskey and that being said I have never had any before.
He clutches the bottle
heart on full throttle
not seeing a way out
not really wanting to
He takes a swig
and the another
blood cells drowning
with the alcohol
vision blurs
there’s nobody left to save him
no body in the world.
Sir, would you, order me a whiskey sour.
My mother always told me that whiskey is a ‘good drink.’ Not like that lager stuff that is full of chemicals and not like that wine shit that’ll give you head aches. whiskey is for people who look after themselves.
Hunter named his dog Whiskey. I’m not really sure why. He’s not a big drinker… perhaps it’s because he’s rather large… and like the drink, his spirit will hit you hard. He’s a rescue dog, and he’s been through a lot. Maybe it’s symbolic some how. Either way he couldn’t have a better home.
In a bottle, in a glass, in my mind, on my ass. In a bar, on my couch, on the floor, ouch. with myself, with my friend, with myself, once again. some with ice, some with lime, some with nothing, some with time.
He was drunk on whiskey, spitting thick, simple words after the bartender’s diagonal movements, from mugs to spigots to patrons. He aimed and missed, making weighted-down gestures as unfinished as his sentences. When he saw me sit on the stool two down from him, he bobbled his heavy head toward me and I thought I heard him say, ‘Link to the ether and accept the access charges: your soul like a penny a word.’ I left immediately and went back to work on my manuscript.
Beer your really not supposed to drink it (even when your 21) because it can ruin your life by:
A. having parties and then becoming addicted Beer
B. Drunk Driving
C. A hobo who has a good paying job but spending all his money on Alcohol.
I wish I could drink whiskey. I drank it once – when I was 21. It is the only drink where I’ve said “I’ll never drink that again!” and I haven’t. Friends assured me I don’t know what I’m missing. Maybe so. But what I can remember isn’t pretty!
I Honestly have no idea what this word means but it reminds me about backing because of the root word ” whisk” and i love to bake
The drunken man took another swig of whiskey, slopping most of it down his front as he attempted to climb down from the bar stool. “Sssgood whi-” Hiccup, “-whiskey, tha-” Hiccup, “-t thhhat.” The bartender snickered with a rolling his eyes. The people sitting near the drunk gave him a wide berth as he finally descended from his stool and drunkenly staggered towards the door. “Thhhhank you-oof!” He said, grimacing and “Ooing” in pain as he ran into a couple tables on his way out.
Nasty tasting stuff, gets you pissed and gives a hang over that is almost as bad as wine. My dad used to drink a few glasses a night. made from corn. Old men and scots drink it, although Scots too much
What a wonderful memory. Johnny Walker Black. Only problem was the drive to Las Vegas with Johnny in the next seat.
It destroys. It starts as an addiction in one person, but in the end, it hurts many. In the end, it cannot be controlled, and then the devestation hits full force.
I like whiskey. I like the velvety smooth taste and the fire within, it is almost like a slow burning passion. It starts hazily and burns brightly.
take away the “e” and you’ll have my sister and her husbands nickname for me. it makes me happy, and it’s too long of a story. but I light up whenever I hear the word, for a completely different reason than anyone else ever will. :)
only mom and dad can drink it. dad dosent like it yuck achahol. have to be 21. you need an I.D. you need to drink it responivly and you hav to have a desinated