The Old Tom Horan Blended Irish Whiskey

750 ml rascally bottle

[Imported and bottled by a large liquor store in Texas and originating from an unknown Irish distillery (or distilleries–or teaspooned to keep it from being single malt), this blended Irish whiskey is named for Houston’s most outspoken advocate of Irish pride and heritage.]

Tasting notes:
The Old Tom Horan Irish Whiskey is a delightful, whimsical change of pace from our normal sorts of drinks. On the nose, we got a tin cup, misused—but not abused—for Moscow Mules, but of late filled with apricot seltzer. We got also some nice grains, a change of pace from barley, and on account of falling through some interstellar time warp, the age is actually younger than 0. And yet, it’s not negative…go figure. Oh, whoops, it was just that Stephen said that it had been liberally slathered with anti-aging cream. My bad. I got a marshmallow whose mother threatened to cut him down to Swiss Miss-sized nuggets. We also got an orange that Benjamin Button had angrily stuck in his pocket after he learned that the orange had voted for Brexit. John got an aging ficus in the corner of an apartment that a rambunctious, precocious kid couldn’t tell whether it was real or plastic.

The mouth was tossing a baby into a barrel of whipped cream and then quickly pulling him out and laughing, which of course convinced the startled baby to laugh, too. Ha ha ha! It’s fun to be thrown in a barrel of whipped cream! There’s some feistiness, too, and a nun smoking an aspirin in the next room. You got that, too, guys, didn’t you? Guys? Guys? There’s butterscotch in the Upside-Down and things are getting more surreal than usual.

It finishes as the world’s mildest mouthwash, but by gum, I feel bacteria popping like little carbon dioxide bubbles. There’s also a hint of a Nilla Wafer being swallowed accidentally, in lieu of Prozac. Or Cialis. (Sometimes, it’s hard to tell all of those apart.)
On the scale of bawdy songs one likes to imagine sung in old-timey pubs and saloons–
The Old Tom Horan Irish whiskey is “Old Tom’s Gone a-Horan Again, that Rascal.”
Here’s the whole song:

Old Tom’s gone a-Horan again, that rascal.
He’s never borin’ in the mornin’, that imp.
He drinks it straight and he drinks it fast
His bottles never last.
No, his bottles never last.

[Stephen: Bill! There’s no such song!]

I know, but there should be.

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