As you may have heard, a vicious snow storm bent over a large portion of the country last week. In Chicago, TSJ staff members were forced to “work from home,” which in Playboy language means “Look for hot girls on the Internet.”
For some reason, I received the distinct honor of taking home a bottle of double distilled goodness, named in honor of the legendary Irish revolutionary hero Michael Collins, who helped found the modern Irish state and who was shot dead in 1922 during the Irish Civil War.
I summoned a friend of mine known for his unique willingness to drop anything else in life for the opportunity to consume a high-quality beverage. With the third biggest blizzard in Chicago history raging outside, it was time to crack that baby open.
As expected, my friend braved the elements and promptly arrived at my door with his drinking hat on. No, seriously, he was wearing a ridiculous corona winter hat he won five years ago at a college bar.
We immediately grabbed two glasses and proceeded with standard activities for two heterosexual males trapped in miserable weather: sipping extraordinarily tasty whiskey, watching 500 Days of Summer on HBO and lamenting about being single. Oh wait, you mean the last two aren’t normal?
Even before deciding that Zooey Dechanel isn’t that hot, half the bottle was gone, and we were exuberantly toasting the delicious balance of honey, citrus and malt flavors.
In an otherwise hazy state, only one thing became clear: A trip to the terrible neighborhood bar two blocks away was in order.
And you know what? I wasn’t even cold on the way there, thanks in large part to my main man, Michael Collins.
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