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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 April 26, 2013 :
Whiskey's stories are hit and miss for me, and this one was a miss. There's nothing punk about it, and the narrator's resentment of his wife was tiresome.
(reviewed long after purchase)