I gotta say, I love my family. Not bragging or anything, but they’re probably the greatest bunch of people to ever walk the earth. It’s been proven by science, so please don’t try to dispute it.
Need an example? We all got together for my Dad’s birthday this weekend and had a rollicking good time as always, and in the middle of the revelry, my sister stopped mid-sentence, her eyes bulged wide, and she turned to her husband and said “OH, we’ve got to show him that thing…the thing from the wedding shower yesterday!” My brother-in-law thought for a second, and then said “Oh yeah! Go get it!” As my sister raced to go get her purse, I glanced quizzically at my brother-in-law as he patted me on the shoulder and with a knowing smile said “You’re going to like this”.
When she returned, she produced from her purse a treat the likes of which I’d never seen: a small foil replica of a Jack Daniels bottle. They informed me that inside was a small chocolate bottle filled with what they were pretty sure was Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey. Naturally, they were bringing it to the expert me for verification.
Apparently the shower they’d attended the day before was of the “stock-the-bar” variety (which, if you’re getting married anytime ever, is the one party you should have, probably three or four times if possible). There was a bowl set out with these inside, and apparently everyone at the party was blind, because they all neglected these little nuggets of liquor-filled gold. There was a variety of them, from Malibu coconut rum to Jack to Galliano to several flavors of Stoli. They (my sister and husband) only noticed them as they were leaving, and they also noticed that the bowl was practically full. So they did the only thing anyone in their right mind would do, and snuck a generous handful (or three) into my sister’s purse (Classy? Arguably not. Smart? MOST DEFINITELY.)
So here I was, with this little treasure they’d brought me. They recommended I eat the entire thing at once, as a half-bite would result in a broken chocolate mess, with booze all over my hands and clothes (and while I love that New Drunkard smell, you know who likes it even more? COPS.) So I unwrapped the precious thing and greedily popped it into my mouth. Oh yes indeedy, this was definitely the same stuff that Jasper “Jack” Daniels had first distilled in 1866 (well, more or less). The combination of the whiskey and chocolate was quite the heady elixir. I immediately held out my hands, like Oliver Twist asking for more, but was soon disheartened to learn that they’d only brought me the one. Honestly I don’t blame them for keeping ‘em for themselves (or more likely, they drank all the others already), it’s great stuff.
Driven by desire to track down more of them, I pieced together the foil wrapper I’d cast aside in my haste, and under the recognizable Jack Daniels insignia I pieced together the words “Anthon Berg“. Being the interweb sleuth that I am (yep, I know how to use GOOGLE!) I quickly tracked down sources where the hooch-filled delicacies could be obtained en masse. Amazon seems to have the best deals on them (96 mini-bottles for $35!?! Hells yes!), which is why I’m sharing that very link with you good readers.
So there it is, one of the millions of reasons my family is the friggin’ bomb and yours is a bunch of paraplegic hobo pedophiles with scoliosis and pronounced lisps. Have fun next Thanksgiving, losers!
*Title shamelessly cribbed from one of my favorite t-shirts ever, found at The Onion