STOP WHINING!

Zoidberg is a government employee. Unlike a government employee, Zoidberg does enjoy doing his job, and doing it well and in a punctual manner. Like a government employee, Zoidberg absolutely despises working on Friday, and graciously accepts programs that let him skip every other Friday to sit around constructing models of old Soviet jets.

That being said, tonight I will watch my glorious Texasmen bring sheer hatred and righteous fury to Brett Favre and his delicious jaw line. Despite Comcast's best efforts to prevent me from watching the third most important NFL game of the season by not airing it, I am resolved to reconnoiter at a house that does not pipe glorious television straight from Lucifer himself. While watching Flozell Adams commit his 22nd false start of the season, I plan on obtaining the finest of bourbons I have not yet imbibed that do not exceed twenty-five dollars from across the Key Bridge in the rough streets of Northwest DC.

It has come to my recent attention that some of the new viewers of the Bourblogger are upset by the current lack of booze related posts (1 for 2). Someone also made the point that while bourbon and objectiveness go well together, as does fitness and objectiveness, they unfortunately do not obey the transitive property. Apparently, bourbon is an

"Old timey (?) southern drink meant for relaxation. Slower times and easing yourself from the fast pace of life. A sweet beverage enjoyed while in subtle contemplation of life and puppies."

-Some Old Woman

Fie on this! Bourbon is a swirling maelstrom of complexity! A drink that may be considered the titular ruler of all things southern, but below all the maudlin labeling with smoking grandads on the bottle lies the burning desire of wanton pleasure and superiority! Surely such a thing can be directly...nay...SIMULTANEOUSLY enjoyed while clean and pressing large rounds of iron through the ceiling!

The truth of the matter is, creating a feeling of satisfaction is something we must strive for as our most pertinent moral purpose. Whether it is drinking a fine adult beverage that I purchase with my well earned money, or enjoying the repose that follows a superior lift, the feeling is the same. Satisfaction and pleasure. It is the purpose of Zoidberg to make accessible the things of booze and exercise so that our readership, however misguided, can see the outlet of enjoyment and pleasure where previously they had not seen it.

Knob Creek Line, Zoidberg Answers

The first post that pretends to have content and casts aspersions on the world comes from my dear friend C.R. Fortynine. Fortynine phrased his question as such:

Might as well pass along the pressing question of the day: Woodford v. Baker v. Bookers v. Basil Hayden. To me, these are all the solid second tier bourbons but Basil is a clear winner. That's likely because I like mine smooth and soft. I could see a convincing argument being made for a meatier, more acerbic bourbon like one of the others. Do you care to make that argument?

I also like mine smooth and soft rather than rock hard and turgid. I agree with the choice of Basil Hayden completely. The Knob Creek line is a bell curve of enjoyment for me, with basil at the center and knob --- baker/booker at either end. Knob creek seems unrefined and brutish to me and I feel like the goal for Bakers/Bookers was just to see if they could make something 140 proof palatable. They can if drinking 140 proof bourbon was my modus operandi, but if I want to get faced and not feel it going down I'll just have 14 tequila sours.

With that in mind, Basil is the clear winner for reasons you just mentioned. It is smooth and woodsy without any hint of harshness, both in the initial flavor and in aftertaste. Now, BB is pretty good for the salient fact that it conceals the truth that it is torpedo fuel and it only burns initially, but it just isn't my bag. People that say they like it and you are too much of a pussy to handle it generally have tiny cocks. If I want to set my face ablaze with high octane booze, I won't stop because it burns. But this is bourbon, a sipping delight that says you like life a little sweeter than the surly scotch drinker. You don't mind taking more than 14 seconds to drink your drink, and when you want to get faced...you'll stop drinking bourbon rather than trying to combine the two elements.

I'll tell you something I found the other day at the ABC that surprised me, Sam Houston 12 (or 10?) year. Smooth tasting, yet big and expansive, just like the great state of Texas from which this drink derives its namesake. It wasn't expensive either. That also happens to be my problem with BB, $45-55. What the shit? It simply is not that good. When I buy BB I feel like I am buying Johnny Walker Black or Gold. Most of my money pays for marketing, the name, and that stupid wooden box it comes in. Who gives 2 shits about what the presentation of the bottle is? The Rip Van Winkle 23 year I recently acquired was nothing more than glass, a label, and fake velvet. Why? because what is inside is what counts unless you are a vodka distributor selling to 17 year olds that like the shiny stainless steel on their bottles.

















Mmmmmmmm. Tastes like socialism.