Good morning. Time to kick off the drinkalongaronathon.
A gentle start to the day. A light aperitif.. And what better aperitif is there than a nice dry sherry. It goes with every type of breakfast food: cornflakes (sprinkle some over the cornflakes for an extra christmassy treat), bacon sandwich, cheese toasty, mince pie or, the kids' favourite, chocolate.
Time for breakfast. And what goes better with a bacon sandwich than a Manzanilla sherry? Oh, I've done that one, haven't I? But it's still true, even after 15 minutes. Just look at the photo to your left. You can tell it's christmas. The bacon's in a nice roll, rather than just white sliced. We spoil the kids. Nice roll, bacon and a decent sherry.
Time to park our fat arses in front of the television. Well, me and the kids. Dolores has kitchen duties between now and midnight. "Oy, where are the cheesy biscuits?" And what goes better with morning TV than a nice, dry sherry? Maybe a nice dry sherry stiffened with Laphroaig. Mmmm. Works really nicely. But don't tell Dolores.
Time for a change of pace. For a long drink. What could possibly fit the bill? I know. Because it's christmas I deserve something special. And something with a god connection. Let's think. . . . That's it. A St. Bernardus Abt. In a Chimay glass. That'll get me in the festive mood even more than the low-quality christmas songs the computer is spitting out.
I enjoyed that. The Abt. So full of beery goodness. But now I did something to match a quick bout of Ostalgie. What do you pair with romaticising the DDR? I could get out that bottle of Nordhäuser Doppelkorn, but Dolores would probably give me one of her looks. A bit early in the day for schnapps. So let's stick with the Abt. A beer that goes with everything.
Just reading the introduction to the 2011 Good Beer Guide. What to take the sting out of the multiple classic Protzisms? I'll tell you a few while I ponder my drink choice. "First brewed in London and Burton-on-Trent, IPAs were strong in alcohol and high in hops" or this about Mild "It was developed in the 18th and 19th centuries as a less aggressivley bitter style of beer than Porter and Stout". He appears to have an endless supply of this bullshit. A rare talent, indeed. Only a Laphroaig will take the edge off such concentrated stupidity.
I'm slowing down. Must be that age thing. After the Protzisms, I need something to un-angry up my blood in time for the goose. What can I choose? What fits the relaxing numberiness of Sudoku? There can only be one choice. The mighty workhorse of boozing: St. Bernardus Abt. (I told you that you'd need a full crate of the stuff).
I still can't get those Protzisms out of my head. Only one thing will do: whisky. Not just any whisky, oh no. Stinky Islay whisky. Dolores had to open the bedroom window last night. The islay fumes were keeping her awake. She preferred the frozen wind off the tundra. I'll be sleeping in the shed tonight. My Choice? It just has to be another Laphroaig.
First course time. We're so sophisticated. Prawn cocktail. With a side order or prosecco. Mmm. No time to talk. Must eat.
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