Winging along at an altitude somewhere between the Bluebird of Happiness and the Chicken of Depression... random esoterica from writer Chad Love celebrating the joys of fishing, hunting, books, guns, gundogs, music, literature, travel, lonely places, wildness, history, art, misanthropy, scotch and the never-ending absurdity of life.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Because Everything Else Is Just Ice...
Why yes, in point of fact I do only chill my bourbon with hailstones formed at 65,000 feet deep within the swirling updraft of a tornadic, violently raging southern plains thunderstorm.
Doesn't everyone of appropriately good taste and sophistication?
In fact, I think that's my new career. I'm going to buy a refrigerated truck and follow the plains storm season from south to north collecting hail, which I will then clean, package and sell to the One Percent as an exclusive, high-end premium drink ice.
Beats the hell outta writing for a living. Literally and figuratively...
*And in case you're wondering, hailstone-chilled bourbon isn't bad. Not bad at all. I might be on to something here...
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I'd like a hailstone Manhattan, please.
ReplyDeleteThat is so, er, cool...
ReplyDeleteand of course the ozone up there will have naturally sterilised the product. I reckon you are onto a winner there...
ReplyDeleteAs a new career venture....?
ReplyDeleteYou've got the balls for it
SBW
You could sell it for 5 bucks a hail stone and get rich. Then again with all the money that you are making with F&S it would probably be a pay cut. :)
ReplyDelete