I’m at a shitty point in my life where I’m just close enough to rock bottom to smell it but far enough that I still have something to lose.
One thing I still have control over is what I’m going to have for lunch. I decided on chicken legs. I’m going to smoke them with Applewood and score the legs so they can hold bbq sauce. I’m going to the store soon but don’t have a favorite sauce, and I’m looking for recommendations. What bbq sauce is best to cook onto the chicken legs?
The apple jim beam wasn’t great, switched to makers mark and that got my head spinning and it makes me feel, different, not happy, but almost there, almost happy. There’s this girl at work that i just think is the best think since sliced bread and i can’t stop thinking about her since I started drinking. I think my subconscious must like her more than my logical brain.
Funny story, she actually suggested that I start drinking whiskey because its a mens drink as opposed to beer or cocktails. I like cocktails though, it’s a cathartic ritual i do to make a drink nearly every day. Even though that’s what I like, here i am sipping my whiskey just because of what she said. Surely that means something right? Maybe I’m one of those people with a martyr complex. Or maybe I’m just a softey for pretty girls.
Anyway irregardless of all that I hear the bald eagles overhead when i sip this makers mark bourbon. I drink American whiskey because I’m a proud American who drinks American booze.
How’s that balcones?