When I heard I would be getting a bottle of Crown Royal Maple to try out, you saw no protest from me. Whiskey? Of course. Send me that free shit. Saves me a trip to the store where this Korean man talks my ear off about how the 99 cent store across the street is putting him out of business. He says he can’t compete with 99 cent prices. He charges me $1.20 for 5 sticks of gum…
I got the Crown Royal package on a Tuesday. The box seemed ultra fancy and maybe that’s just me not getting too many boxes with magnets in them for closing purposes. Most of the boxes I get are usually repurposed boxes that have been sealed shut with used residue from envelopes. Right off the bat, I was impressed with Crown Royal and their packaging department.
To be fair, as long as it wasn’t delivered in a zip lock bag, I was going to be impressed.
Fuck your umbrellas.
I decided I would set it aside, invite someone over and make a night of this.
Then I drank it all that night. Sorry. I fucking suck. That’s the way it goes. Free booze sitting on my counter and YOU expect ME to wait? Fuck you actually for that judgment. Now, some of it I remember like one eye opening to see how much I had in my black mug. I remember the smell being fantastic mainly because it brought a pancake mirage into the room. But I”M TELLING YOU: This shit was delicious.
Look. You want a story? Fine. This is how I envisioned my Crown Royal Maple night would’ve gone if I wasn’t such a weak-willed human being:
Wind. Moving. Hair… blowing. The night was right and the liquor, well, yeah that was right too. Everything was right. What’s left was actually right. And the Wright Brothers. Yeah they right too. I had sex alright. Yep. Me. Andy Sweat. Had sex. In December. The last time I had sex in this season must’ve been two years ago. That was not right. But not tonight, boys. Love making machine happened. As much as I’d like to take full credit for the way my musk moves a lady… I simply cannot. I must give a hat tip where tipping hat credit is due.
This hat will do the trick.
The hat tip belongs to Crown Royal Maple Whiskey. If it weren’t for their syrupy, liquor toe warming goodness, I would have blue balls in Winter (again). Instead, my body was warm with alcoholic delight and the aroma of femininity all up in my December beard. I was finally a man again during the holidays for I had the stank of vagina all up on me.
Here’s how it all went down, folks. I had a girl over that was deemed to be strictly in the friend zone. Ha. Friend zone. Not tonight, friendo.
For I have liquor and the holidays working against you. You think you can just stay there, safe in the that little zone of yours? Not tonight. Tonight the Berlin wall is coming down. Tonight the Treaty of Versailles will be signed by our genitals. Tonight you will be mine.
So I invited her over for a little holiday get together of sorts before we part our separate ways to engage in the shitty family festivities elsewhere. She said she was busy. So I lied and said I was depressed, possibly suicidal.You don’t want that on your conscience, right friend? Needless to say, the trick worked. She came over right away. I set the mood. Low-dimmed the lights. Put on the Chet Baker. Harmless, harmless friend stuff. I put the Crown Royal Maple bottle wrapped up in its bag center stage on the table.
She came over and consoled me. Asked if I was okay. I told her I was now. We proceeded to the couch. Oh, yeah. Things were progressing at the perfect pace and it was time to unleash. Like I was releasing a robe, I smoothly pulled the Crown Royal Maple case off its sexy body. I stroked the bottle with my hand. Flung the case like I was some exotic stripper creature. Her raised eyebrow said she was feeling it. Her moving away from me two feet said she wanted it… BAD. I poured us some drinks. The Maple whiskey put a spell on her like I hoped. She was in love with the Crown Royal Maple and soon she’d be in love with me.
I can tell the heat from my curly haired chest was getting to her since I had smothered her face in it without her permission. So I suggested we hit outside for a fresh breath of non-hormonal air. We went to the bar, but after a few bland shots, I can tell the Maple haze was weakening. I needed to get her back into my lair with Crown Royal as my guide. We headed back to my apartment. Time was running out. I could see her disdain for me coming back strong. I needed to get that Crown Royal Maple right away. So I picked her up and ran her 5 city blocks, up the elevator, and into my apartment. I laid her down on the couch and she begged for more Crown. I obliged and feed her a cup like a princess. We started to make out. Sex stuff just going all over the place, yeah.
She spent the night, I made pancakes in the morning and had one last shot of Crown Royal to start my day. How’s the friend zone now, friendo?
In all honesty, Crown Royal Maple was pretty fucking great. I’m really a man that doesn’t like flavored stuff, especially whiskey. But I have to say I absolutely loved this stuff, especially for this time of the year. It’s perfect and doesn’t make you feel like such a big drunk. It feels soothing, warm for the holidays without trying too hard. A hint of maple. A caramelized finish at the end. Nothing crazy or over the top. Just the right touch which is a rarity during the holidays.
At $24.99 a bottle, it’s basically all I bring to holiday parties. Check out the below recipes and see where your Crown Royal Maple takes you.