All those old blues guys had it right, then.
“One scotch, one bourbon, and one beer.”
I’m game.
Yeah, but you need to play blues guitar, too!
I define myself as a social drinker: I tend to enjoy drinking only when in the company of others who also drink. It can be a real bummer to drink with a teetotaler.
So, about now living alone, I tend to be a holidays, company, or social outing drinker….
They don’t tend to discuss those in these sudies, do they?
I tried to add a glass of red wine to dinner, but I just didn’t enjoy it without others present.
It’s just Nature’s way of ridding the world of Mormons.
Jawbone, that’s exactly my drinking pattern. I just can’t seem to do it if I’m alone.
Only person that I ever met that could outdrink me was a guy in his 70s and who was retired in the Pocono Mountains. My kind of guy, open the bottle and throw away the lid.
He was a former newspaperman that hated newspapers. He could drink three bottles of whiskey one after the other. Still cook up an excellent omelet.
Told me innumerable stories about the crime and bribes and filth going on in the elected part of the government. Told me that he had a bunch of really hot materials that he was going to trade to Drew Pearson for a job. Then he found out Pearson was a “snitch” for J Edgar Hoover.
Bitter, that man had to stand on the Everest mountain to see up to “bitter.”
All those old blues guys had it right, then.
“One scotch, one bourbon, and one beer.”
I’m game.
Yeah, but you need to play blues guitar, too!
I define myself as a social drinker: I tend to enjoy drinking only when in the company of others who also drink. It can be a real bummer to drink with a teetotaler.
So, about now living alone, I tend to be a holidays, company, or social outing drinker….
They don’t tend to discuss those in these sudies, do they?
I tried to add a glass of red wine to dinner, but I just didn’t enjoy it without others present.
It’s just Nature’s way of ridding the world of Mormons.
Jawbone, that’s exactly my drinking pattern. I just can’t seem to do it if I’m alone.
Only person that I ever met that could outdrink me was a guy in his 70s and who was retired in the Pocono Mountains. My kind of guy, open the bottle and throw away the lid.
He was a former newspaperman that hated newspapers. He could drink three bottles of whiskey one after the other. Still cook up an excellent omelet.
Told me innumerable stories about the crime and bribes and filth going on in the elected part of the government. Told me that he had a bunch of really hot materials that he was going to trade to Drew Pearson for a job. Then he found out Pearson was a “snitch” for J Edgar Hoover.
Bitter, that man had to stand on the Everest mountain to see up to “bitter.”