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Born on the mountaintops of Tennessee, greatest state in the land of the free, raised in the bars so he knew how to drink, had his first shot of whiskey when he was only three, Whiskey, Whiskey McNaughton, drinking his country dry.
(With apologies to Disney for butchering the words to The Ballad of Davey Crockett)
As old as my tongue and a little bit older than my teeth.
Old as dirt and twice as nasty.
on Dec. 16, 2011 :
I've read a couple other of Whiskey's stories, and today is a very cold day in Kentucky. To say the least, this story warmed me up! I love his comparisons of things like: "Instead, a babe so smoking hot the fire department should have been camping just inside the door of this barber shop..." makes his stories fun to read and very enjoyable.
(review of free book)