Jammy bastard

I am such a jammy bastard at times.

The other week, I was smurfing the internet (as one does), when I came across a discussion about my favourite tipple: Laphroaig whisky. To be honest, I can't remember how I chanced upon the discussion, but someone was asking people to recall their first Laphroaig moment, and to say whether they loved it or hated it. I responded: 'Hated it because it tasted like seaweed. Now love it (because it tastes like seaweed)'.

A couple of days later, a nice lady from Laphroaig contacted me to say that I was joint winner in their competition. I honestly had not idea that it had been a competition, otherwise I would have considered my response more carefully, and would no doubt have failed to win a thing.

I picked up my prize at Hebden Bridge Post Office this morning: a limited edition bottle of Laphroaig Feis Ile Càirdeas 12 year old, cask strength malt (57.5% vol).

Admit it, you hate me.

Richard Carter

A fat, bearded chap with a Charles Darwin fixation.


  1. Hate you? No - I can't stand whisky. Better it be drunk by someone who appreciates finest seaweed.

  2. I once drank a whole bottle of Glennclose. That tasted of seaweed too.

  3. Alternatively, you honestly did have an idea that it was a competition, and hence did not post a link to it that any of your witty, whisky-drinking readers might have been able to follow while the prize was still up for grabs. I think it's obvious what you were frightened of, Mr Carter.

  4. So this is the best story you could come up with for 'covering up' to your other half? I've heard of penniless alcoholics who glug metal polish, but alccoholics resorting to seaweed? For shame. (Do you take it on the rocks or just a little water?)

  5. You are a jammy sod and not worthy of our contempt.

    At least the prize will go to a home where it will be appreciated however.

  6. On a semi-related note, I found myself at a whisky a month or so back - nothing particularly unusual on offer but there are worse ways to spend an hour or two.

    As these things often do, we started with the relatively tame lowland (Glen Kinchie if I recall correctly) and worked our way up to - you guessed it - Laphroaig.

    I enjoy them all in any case but it's amazing how easy even the more powerful stuff is to drink when you work your way up to it. So much so that one of the tasters who had previously considered that particular malt the devil's work suggested, quite appropriately I thought, that the tasting should be re-named "how to drink Laphroaig".

    So, if your mission is to convert the world to drinking Laphroaig, all you need is six other malts to warm them up first.

  7. My father used to loveLaphroaig but I'm sure it was the only one he could taste after smoking 12 Hamlets a day! Oh, and for the record he also won a prize from Grouse Whiskey many moons ago and this also came in a box - it was a pair of binoculars, better to see the July 4th fireworks but not as fun

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