#schnocker

[quicksilverdaisyday]

i like to think that for neil’s 19th birthday he and stephen went out and got absolutely hammered

[sighed-the-snake]

Can we take a moment to appreciate that the laudanum purchased by Elspeth was sold by Cut Me Own Throat (C.M.O.T) Dibbler?

[roo-bastmoon]

Here's an idea for something positive to discuss if you'd like a thought experiment.

I think we all agree that Suchwita is EXACTLY the perfect type of show for Yoongi to host. It plays into his strengths both as a host and as someone who LOVES to give advice and perspective in his industry.

We also know that there's another member with excellent hosting skills among the Tannies...who just so happens to be the first one planned for release from military service. If Jin were to host some kind of show after his release before group activities resume, what kind of show do you see him hosting? Types of activities? Ideas of guests?

All hypothetical, of course! 💜💜💜

This is a fantastic and creative ask!

Let me think...

I know Jin loves to cook and to act, so if he wants to do something like that, I'd absolutely tune in. But he was also completely ADORKABLE on that drinking show... the one where the woman (I think Lee Youngji is her name if I'm spelling it right) interviews a guest while they get schnockered? He's so shy and funny, I'd love to see him do something with a bunch of crazy funny extroverted women, like a Say Yes to the Dress or The View or something.

He puts people at ease by being silly if they are straight-laced and the straight man if they have big personalities. An instinctive entertainer. So if he carries the Suchwita torch, he'd be good at it. But he's also great with kids and gaming.

I wonder if it would be really cute to see him do something like a camp counselor show for disadvantaged youth? It could have indoor and outdoor games, singing and dancing performances, fishing, an obstacle course like a mini-boot camp... whatever Jin would like to put the kids through.

Then again, older guys seem totally smitten with him (who can blame them?). What if he did like a cooking competition in a retirement home with celebrity guests from the residents' era? Sort of like a comeback for old actors or trot singers. It could be a show that could bridge a generational divide?

Hmm I dunno. He'd be good at so many things! What do other people think?

[theatrediva1975]

Redemption | Chapter 4

NEVER CAN SAY GOODBYE

Sam flipped over onto her back for the umpteenth time.  The clock on her phone read 4:42 am.  Sleep had, as expected, completely eluded her again.  Despite Mae keeping Sam busy, running her ragged her second day on the island, Sam still hadn’t been able to sleep.  At least that meant no nightmares.  Can’t have a nightmare when you’re wide awake.

Well, in theory.

Giving up, Sam rolled out of bed and made her way downstairs.  She was surprised to turn the corner into the kitchen to find Mae standing at the island, her right hand holding a large mug of coffee.

“I heard your gears grinding all night.  Figured you could use this,” she said with a smile as she handed the steaming coffee off to her niece.

Mae chuckled as she took a sip of her own drink.  “Did you solve the case?”  Sam just looked at Mae.  “That’s why you haven’t slept the past two nights, right?  You’re trying to solve John’s…you figure it out?”

Sam saw the sadness and grief in Mae’s eyes.  She and John had been very close, particularly in recent years.  They had been more than just neighbors.  Mae and John were bonded by grief and loss and it had grown into a very precious, genuine friendship.  Sam had always secretly hoped they would call one day and tell her they had just gone and eloped.  Another wave of grief washed over her.  She knew this was to be expected.  She’d felt it before – when her parents were killed, when Doris McGarrett died, when Ben…

“Earth to Sam,” Mae called out.  

“Sorry, Mae.  Didn’t mean to ignore you.  I was just…”

“I know, baby, I know.  It’s going to be a rough day.”

Sam clenched Mae’s hand.  “For both of us.”  Sam drew Mae into a hug.  “Just like always, it’s you and me against the world, eh, Mae?”  Sam felt Mae nod against her shoulder.  After several moments, they separated, exchanged a look and picked up their mugs.  Mae looked down into hers and walked into the dining room.  

When Mae stepped back into the kitchen, Sam’s eyebrows shot up.

“What?  McGarrett – it’s Irish.  Hence, Irish whiskey.  Shut up.”

Sam barked out a laugh at Mae’s feistiness but didn’t hesitate to pop open the bottle and pour a generous amount of the brown liquid into both mugs.  “To John.”

“To John,” Mae answered, looking heavenward.  To break the tension, Mae asked, “Is your uniform ironed?”

Sam chuckled.  “Yes, ma’am, I made sure it was done last night.”  Mae nodded.  “Should we eat some breakfast so we don’t show up completely schnockered?”  Sam got up to grab some food for the two of them.  Mae didn’t look like she was in the mood, nor the state of mind.  

After cooking, eating and cleaning breakfast, the women moved upstairs to get ready for one of the hardest days of their lives.  

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sam stared in the mirror.  Her hair was pulled back into a French twist, ready to tuck under her cover.  Her uniform was crisp and ironed.  The mourning band placed securely over her badge.  Sam took one last look in the mirror to make sure everything was in order, grabbed her cover and headed downstairs.

“Ready?” Mae asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” she replied.

As Mae backed out of the driveway, Sam leaned her head back against the headrest, avoiding looking at the McGarrett house.  Memories were already flooding her brain.  Most vivid, at the moment, were the most recent – sitting on the beach behind the house, trading stories with John about the cases she worked on from her time with vice and homicide to more recent stories about SWAT takedowns, the night John took the gun out of her hands…

Too many memories.  Too much pain.  It had to end.  

Sam glanced in her side mirror, watching for a tail.  While nothing had seemed out of the ordinary since the park at the beach two days earlier, Sam still felt unsettled.  She still felt as if she was being watched.  

Lost in thought, Sam hadn’t noticed the car had stopped until she felt Mae’s hand on her arm.

“Sweetie, we’re here.”

Sam drew in a deep breath and nodded.  As the two got out of the car, Sam heard a voice calling out to Mae.  She noticed a tall, older man in an HPD uniform making his way over.  As he got closer, Sam realized it was Duke Lukela.  She hadn’t seen him in years, but he still had the same soft smile he always did.  Duke enveloped Mae in a quick hug and gave Sam a quick nod of his head. He was gone as quickly as he had appeared.  Mae and Sam moved together towards the church, but Sam was distracted by someone she thought she recognized.

“What is it?” Mae inquired.

“Not sure.  I thought I saw someone I knew but I guess not,” Sam answered.

“Well, you did grow up here.  I wouldn’t be surprised if you did recognize some people here.  A couple of the guys you went to school with become cops.”  Sam just grunted in response.  She was less than impressed, remembering some of the idiots she graduated with.  

“Give me a minute?” Sam asked. 

Mae nodded.  “I’ll head inside and get us some seats.”

Sam stepped aside, heading for the side of the church. The gardens on the side of the building were filled with benches, flowers, shrubs and winding paths, perfect for reflection.  As Sam walked along the paver pathway, her eye caught on a small fountain.  A small angel stood in the center of the small pool, water trickling out of a small bowl sitting in its chubby little hands.  A small plaque was affixed to the base of the pool.  Sam stepped closer to read the inscription:

“Grief is the last act of love we have to give the ones we loved.  Where there is deep grief, there was great love.”

WIth those simple words, the tears Sam had been fighting for the past few days finally fell.  The inevitable crash of grief she had been fighting so hard to stave off finally began to hit, consuming her.  The power of it stole her breath and before she knew it, she felt herself start to fall to her knees.  The free fall felt like forever but before she hit the ground, a strong pair of hands wrapped around her.

“Samantha?  Sam?  Can you look at me?”

The voice calling to her through the rush in her ears sounded familiar and soothing.  Calm but with deep concern.  

“Samantha, can you take a deep breath for me?” The hands around her waist were gently pulling her up from where she was awkwardly hovering over the pavers, holding herself up - barely - on the wall of the fountain.  She felt herself being turned around and guided over to a small memorial bench in the garden, just across from the angel fountain.  “That’s it.  Deep breath in, then push it all the way out.”

After a few more moments of deep breathing, Sam seemed to float back into her senses and turned to the figure sitting next to her.  “Chin?”

Sam recognized Chin Ho Kelly immediately as she locked eyes on him.  She remembered him attending football games with John, watching Steve play. She also remembered the night he arrested her after John sent Steve to the mainland, and how he would stop in to check on John after he retired.  Sam had always liked the quiet, Zen-like Chin.  

Chin looked at Sam with concern in his eyes.  He could tell she was struggling physically.  “Samantha?  Are you alright?”

With tears shining in her eyes, Sam simply shook her head.  She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t form words.  Chin simply looked at her with understanding and concern.

“Tough day, huh?”  He could feel the tension in her body, afraid she was on the verge of a panic attack, so he simply rubbed her back with his left hand, allowing Sam a moment to get her breathing under control.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Chin shook his head.  “You have nothing to be sorry for.  I know how much John meant to you.  And can I tell you something?”  Sam nodded.  Chin placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up to look in his eyes.  “You meant the world to him, too.  I know he loved you as much as he loved Mary and Steve.”  All Sam could do was nod as fresh tears began falling down her cheeks.  Chin just sat next to Sam and held her.  He felt both relief and peace as he sat in the floral courtyard, holding the young woman John McGarrett had always adored.  Knowing he couldn’t go inside without the stares and judgment of his former colleagues, Chin felt as though this was what he was meant to do today, comfort and protect Samantha Devereaux.

After a while, Sam lifted her head and looked up at Chin with puffy, bloodshot eyes.  

“Chin, I’m so sorry.  I can’t believe I just did that to you.”

“Did what, Sam?  Grieve?”

“I kept you from being inside the service.  Not to mention the fact that I am such a jerk for leaving Mae inside by herself.”  Sam started to pull away from Chin, but he held her firmly in place.

“I can’t go in there,” Chin stated quietly.  Sam understood what he meant.  While she didn’t have all the details, she knew Chin had been the victim of some ridiculous accusations and lost his badge.  John had told her a little about it but not many details. 

“Come in with me.  Sit with us,” Sam implored.  Chin shook his head.  “Anyone dares say anything or even look at you funny, I’ll show them what LAPD SWAT is all about.”  They both chuckled, knowing full well that Sam most certainly would.  

Chin smiled at her.  “He was so incredibly proud of you, Sam.  He talked about you all the time.”  

“Then I owe it to him to get my sorry ass up off this bench and get inside, don’t I?” Sam replied with a half hearted chuckle.

“You do what you want to do, what you need to do, Sam.  John won’t judge you, you know he won’t.  And I know enough about you to know you don’t care what anyone else inside that building thinks,” Chin paused.  “Well, no one except Mae.  And Steve.”

Sam just gave Chin a lopsided grin and shook her head.  They stood up and Sam pulled Chin into a tight hug.  “Mahalo.”  

“It was an honor, Lieutenant,” Chin said with a mock salute after breaking the hug.

Sam slowly walked away, part of her still hoping Chin would follow her.  She was disappointed to get to the doors of the church and realize he wasn’t behind her.  She looked at her watch and realized she had lost nearly half an hour.  Before opening the door, Sam looked to the beautiful, clear blue sky.  “You did this on purpose didn’t you, you old coot?  You made me have a freaking meltdown so I’d nearly miss the  service,” Sam whispered out loud.  She chuckled at the thought, but she did feel a sense of calm and peace settle over her.  She could have sworn she felt a hand on her shoulder again.  She turned and found no one there.  She smiled.  John, she thought.  He’s right there on my shoulder, like always.

Taking a deep breath, Sam quietly opened the door to the church and made her way to the sanctuary.  Thankfully, the doors were open, so she stepped inside, scanning the crowd for Mae’s strawberry blonde head.  But it was the head of brown hair in the front pew that caught her eye first.  Sitting ramrod straight in his dress blues was Steve.  Sam felt her breath catch in her throat, knowing this was the first time in years since they had been in the same place at the same time.  2005 didn’t count.  Trying to shake those images from her mind, Sam caught something in her peripheral vision and turned slightly to her left, where she found Mae’s eyes boring into her own.  Sam made her way to the pew and managed to silently squeeze in on the end next to her aunt.  Mae’s eyes looked at her inquisitively.  Sam simply shook her head once, as if to say, ‘not now’.

Once the service was complete, the priest relayed the burial information to the crowd and everyone stood as the pallbearers made their way down the aisle.  The burning in her eyes forced Sam to drop her head and look away from the casket.  She silently cursed herself, chastised herself for being such a crybaby.  She was ex-CIA and now part of one of the most elite SWAT teams in the world.  Didn’t work.  Because it was John.  Sam felt like she had lost her father all over again.

While Sam stood in the back row, berating herself, she missed the fact that a certain Navy SEAL had looked in her direction.  Steve recognized Mae but it took a second to realize the tall red head in the police uniform next to her was Sam.  Mae and Steve acknowledged each other briefly as he made his way out of the church.  When Mae turned to say something to Sam, she realized her eyes were closed and a stray tear had made its way down her cheek.  Sam seemed to be mouthing something to herself, completely lost in her own world.  She opened her eyes when she felt Mae’s hand on her arm.

“Sweetie?”  

“Sorry, Mae,” Sam started to say but Mae held up a hand to stop her.  

Quietly, Mae leaned into her.  “You do not owe me or anyone else an explanation.  John understands.”

Sam covered Mae’s hand with her own.  “That’s what Chin said to me outside.”

“Chin Ho Kelly was here?” Mae asked, slightly surprised.

“Yes.  He came up to me as I was having…a moment.  He sat with me for a bit and let me work through it.  I can see why John respected him so much.  Chin’s a really wonderful man.  Too bad HPD didn’t see that,” Sam replied bitterly.  Mae simply nodded her head but looked around to see if anyone had heard their exchange.  Most HPD officers were not fond of Chin.  Luckily, the procession of officers had thinned out and the sanctuary was only occupied by about a dozen or so cops and a few civilians.

“I agree but that’s not something to talk about in a church full of Honolulu’s finest,” Mae stated.  “Let’s get out of here.  Are you up to the cemetery or…”

“Yes, we need to be there.”  Mae nodded at her niece and the two linked arms and made their way out to the parking lot.  

The duo fell into silence as they joined the procession of cars to the cemetery.  Once Mae parked the car, Sam got out and stared down at the spot where John was about to be laid to rest.  She took a deep breath and looked back at Mae, who simply nodded at her niece.

When Samuel and Stella Devereaux died, the McGarrett family took Sam in for the brief time it took to find Mae, who was trekking through Nepal, and get her on the next flight to Honolulu.  Samuel had taken the family plane to surprise Stella with a weekend trip to a private resort up in the mountains.  Sam stayed at the McGarrett house for the three days they were gone.  On their way back from their romantic getaway, “catastrophic engine failure” caused the plane to crash land in a remote part of the island.  It took several days to find the wreckage.  When the couple were buried, the McGarrett family stood beside Mae and Sam.  Steve wouldn’t leave his best friend’s side, holding her hand throughout the service and burial.  When Doris McGarrett died in a fiery car crash, Sam did the same.  Sam kicked herself for breaking down at the church, but she was bound and determined to be there for Steve now, as his father was laid in his final resting place.  

Sam walked down the slope of the cemetery, her eyes never leaving the back of Steve’s head.  Before anyone could get the chance to stand next to him, Sam walked right up to the seat adjacent to Steve.  After a moment but without so much as a sideways glance, Sam laced her fingers with his.  She felt a little resistance, as if Steve was surprised to have someone holding his hand.  But it was quickly followed by a gentle squeeze.  While neither of them turned to acknowledge the other, they both realized there was no reason to.  Eighteen years and thousands of miles of distance disappeared, and they were once again two kids, mourning the loss of their parents.

The graveside service was even briefer than the church.  Once it ended, Sam finally turned to look Steve in the eye.  Without a single word, the two wrapped their arms around each other and held on for the briefest of moments before pulling back.  Both seemed to have so much to say but didn’t know how to say it.  So instead, Steve leaned over and placed a kiss on Sam’s cheek and whispered in her ear.  “Thank you, Red.”  And before she could respond, he was gone.  

Sam let out a deep breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding, turning to watch Steve retreat back to the parking lot.  It was then that it hit her that Mary was nowhere to be seen.  How could she miss her father’s funeral?  She would have to ask Mae about that when they got home.  Regret hit her again as she thought about the few times she reached out to Mary in LA and got no response.  After a few times, it turned into an out-of-sight-out-of-mind situation and a few weeks between attempts turned into a few months and then it felt strange to keep pushing when Mary failed to respond even once.  

Pushing those thoughts out of her mind as she watched Steve get into his rental, Sam turned back to the casket.  She looked around to ensure no one would overhear what she had to say.  Laying her hand on John McGarrett’s casket, the words she desperately wanted to say wouldn’t come.  

“I…there’s so much…I can’t…” Sam couldn’t get out what she needed to say.  The guilt she felt weighed so heavily she couldn’t even complete a sentence.  She knew he would have understood, would have put an arm around her shoulders and told her to let it go.  The guilt would kill her if she let it.  He had told her that once.  That guilt had a way of eating you up and spitting you out before it came back for seconds.  She tried to start again, but the path from her brain to her mouth had apparently shut down.  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and simply leaned over and placed a light kiss on the smooth wood of the casket and whispered, “I love you, Pops.”  She dropped her forehead against the cool wood and said a brief prayer before pushing herself away.  

From above, Mae watched Sam as her own tears fell.  There was little she could do.  She knew Sam was eaten up with guilt and grief and responsibility that was not hers to bear.  Mae looked to the skies and sent a prayer of her own that she hoped would be answered, to give her beloved niece something she hasn’t had in years.

Peace.

[kineticpenguin]

You know you're schnockered when you tip back a can only to find it empty, and remark "devil's up and the bottom laughs"

[hyenaswine]

how am i the fattest person i know but also have the lowest alcohol tolerance. im schnockered from a cider & a half

[scriveyner]

on the brink

on the brink | samurai flamenco | gotoyoshi | ~750 words

Gotou had been in the bathroom for all of ten minutes, the world a very comfortable shade of fuzzy at the edges, but he hadn’t had the time to properly enjoy the buzz because there was a tell-tale thump-thump-thump-thud from the main room of the apartment. Gotou lifted his head, squinted at the wall for a moment like he could see through it, and finally staggered out of the washroom to make sure that the furniture and his unfortunate live-in-roommate were both, for the moment, intact.

Continue on ao3 or

The good news was that Masayoshi had not collapsed the shelf in the futon closet. “Gotou-shan,” Masayoshi chirped, lying on his back with his legs still hook on the shelf and arms out to either side. “The apartment won’t shtop moving.”

“Did you,” Gotou leaned his shoulder against the wall because he refused to concede the point that everything was still very, very wobbly, “fall out of the closet?”

“No!” Masayoshi scrunched up his nose. “Yes. I think.”

“You were going to sleep.”

“No!”

Gotou raised an eyebrow. Masayoshi thumped both of his arms into the floor in aggravation. “I wasn’t!” he protested, like it was some kind of weakness to admit that they’d managed to get totally trashed together, and maybe it was time to pass out for the night. “I need to—” he raised his hands and started squeezing them in the air, and Gotou stared at him because, well, that wasn’t very Masayoshi-like. “My outfit,” he whined finally, and Gotou realized that he was pantomiming reaching for a hangar and not, you know, groping someone’s chest.

For a split second he imagined how that would go, with someone like Mari. There wouldn’t be enough left of Masayoshi for the funeral, he reckoned.

Wait, outfit.

Masayoshi had rolled onto his side and was attempting to navigate himself upright, and Gotou said, “you are absolutely not going out on patrol when you’re completely fuckin’ schnockered.”

This at least made Masayoshi pause in his efforts. “What?”

“What?”

“When I’m what?”

“No patrols!” Gotou waved an arm, made to grab for one of the costumes stashed in the closet but then realized of course there were no costumes here, they had all either been destroyed in the fire or claimed for the Flamengers museum. “No costumes, you’re fuckin’ drunk and I’m fuckin’ drunk an’ I don’t want to spend fuckin’ New Years’ in a fuckin’ drunk tank!”

Masayoshi thought about this. “Are there fish?”

Gotou stared at him.

Masayoshi gave him a look of concern.

Gotou sighed, pushed his hand through his hair, and said, very slowly, “not a tank like at an aquarium.”

“Ohhhh,” Masayoshi finally was fully upright. He gestured at Gotou. “But I have to—”

“If you want to fucking go to the shrine in—” don’t look at the clock don’t look at the clock “too few fuckin’ hours you need to go to fuckin’ sleep!”

“You say fuck a lot when you’re drunk, Gotou-shan.”

“I do a lot of things when I’m drunk that I don’t want to think about or remember.” Gotou gestured to the futon closet. “Would you just. Go the fuck to sleep, Masayoshi?”

Masayoshi was giving him a look that he didn’t want to think too much about, the same look that made his stomach as warm as his face felt right at this moment. It was his “I’m about to do something stupid” look, which he telegraphed far more openly when he, too, was drunk; and before Gotou could open his mouth to attempt to redirect Masayoshi, he was staggering forward directly into Gotou’s arms.

“Now what are you—” Gotou started, but then Masayoshi touched his face, and he froze, heart pounding in his throat. He didn’t have to think about it, following the lead, tilting his head into Masayoshi’s hand, forward—and then Masayoshi’s lips brushed over his, chaste and quick and oh god he was far too drunk to warrant popping a boner let alone over something as quick and delicate as that. The kiss was brief, too brief—and he followed for a moment when Masayoshi drew back, blue eyes large and glittering.

“You’ll remember that,” Masayoshi said, earnestly. “Won’t you, Gotou-san?”

Gotou, head swimming, nodded once, absently—and then wrapped his arm around the small of Masayoshi’s back, pulling him in for another, far less chaste, kiss. “All that, and more,” he murmured, and Masayoshi beamed as they kissed again, the bells ringing softly in the distance.

[simple-and-cozy-life]

I'm back from a family vacation and it was a really wonderful time with my bf's family. We talked a lot about getting married and here are a few noteworthy moments:

The night before we left, we were laying in bed the wrong way, cuddling and talking about getting married. I told him whenever he's ready to ask he can and I'd say yes and how I want to be his wife.

At his sister's wedding, the groom's dad and step mom had asked how long we've been married. After responding we're still dating, they asked "this isn't the first time you've been asked this, is it?" "No"

On the way back, talking about our future together, raising kids, and what a great marriage we'd have.

He said I'd be a great future wife.

"On iFunny, there's a lot of posts about traditional women and traditional values and you're like one"

Cue a conversation about the trad/traditional movement

Talking about our future house and having the ability to build on later and having a dog and some chickens, maybe a barn cat.

I mentioned that his house would get too small if we had more than one kid right away. We would could manage with one kid, but I want 5, so that would be a challenge in that house.

Talking about moving closer to his parents so they could help us out with little kids, or at least closer than 2½ hours away.

"what month do you would you like to get married?" (I went immediately into logistics and thought through how it'd work around my masters degree that I'm pursuing. He really meant what season)

"oh, spring or summer. If we had a summer wedding, we could have some really beautiful and rich colors" -me

Talking about getting both our best man and maid of honor drunk at our wedding (I also want to set them up because I think I'd be a funny match)

Talking about his family is going to probably get him a little schnockered

Talking about how his mom is probably going to get me drunk too.

I mentioned how fun it would be to see how our families interacted. I am betting on one of my aunts having a good time with his mom and her sisters and my uncle having a time with my dad and his dad.

I asked him what church he thought we should marry in, mine at grad school or his in the one close to his village

He didn't care as long as it was a catholic wedding (I might opt for the one at my grad school then. It's beautiful up there and not so far for his family to drive. Mine are all out of state, so it won't matter.

Him hugging me and mentioning how I'd be a great future wife

I'm really looking forward to a future with him. I also told him he doesn't have to get the most expensive ring, it just has to look nice. I'm half tempted to go to the pawn shop to see if there's something decent there.

Last time I visited, I mentioned how it'd be nice to get engaged so we have time to plan and also I can be left alone in grad school. Considering how much we talked about getting married, I'm sure he's thinking about it. Maybe we'll get engaged before the summer ends.

[whiskeyfellow]

Can you believe it? Distill America XVI is happening on Saturday, May 18th, 2024. The event runs from 1-6pm at Breese Stevens Field in Madison, WI. This is the same venue as last year.

Maybe you’re new to #Wisconsin, or perhaps you’re just getting into distilled spirits. You may be curious about what Distill America is about. I’ve attended for the last eight years and am friends with the folks who make this event come to life. As such, I’ve got the rundown for everything you need to know.

Distill America was founded 16 years ago by a small group of spirits enthusiasts in Madison known as the Madison Malt Society. They often traveled to Chicago for #whiskey events. However, ever-increasing expenses damaged their enjoyment and took away from the excitement of attending year after year. Aside from travel costs, they contended with pricey entry fees for the distillers and attendees. They were struck with the notion that they could create an event locally that anyone could attend every year, whether they were an exhibitor or a fan of distilled #spirits. The goal was to attract bartenders, retailers, and the general public to learn about what is on the market and available to enjoy.

The founders wanted to create something unique rather than simply recreating the typical whiskey event. Star Liquor on Williams (Willy) Street got involved. The group then decided they wanted this event to be unlike most others. They also wanted to introduce visitors to exclusively American-made spirits, not just Bourbon, Rye, and other American whiskeys. That opened the door for #rum, #brandy, #gin, #vodka, and other brown or clear spirits.

Behind the scenes, there was much volunteer work to get the process going. The crazy thing is nobody involved took a salary. All proceeds benefit the non-profit Wisconsin Distillers Guild. The Guild’s mission is to promote Wisconsin-made spirits, agriculture, tourism, small-batch distillation, and the safe enjoyment of alcoholic beverages. Distill America also creates scholarships for people to take coursework and learn about the distilling industry.

From the smallest craft #distillery to the largest, established distilleries, they all travel to Madison to entertain and educate true spirits enthusiasts and people new to everything. There is something for everyone to enjoy.

The Madison Malt Society's desire is and always has been for Distill America to grow and remain sustainable for the future without losing what makes Distill America unique. But that means change will happen. Distill America went further by offering educational seminars about seven years ago.

Now that you know the background of Distill America, I have a few tips and tricks for attending. First and foremost, enjoy this event responsibly. Make arrangements in advance to get to and from the event safely. Bring a designated driver who can attend for a mere $23.00. Your DD will have access to any non-alcoholic beverages and food.

If this is your first time attending a spirits festival, please know that it is easy to get schnockered before you even realize it. Eat a full meal before showing up. Appetizers will be available on the floor, but you shouldn’t show up on an empty stomach. Also, it is perfectly acceptable to not finish what’s in your glass. Most people don’t. Sip, dump the rest and move to the next table.

Last year, a friend who was inexperienced with these events came with me. Let’s just say he didn’t remember the ride home, didn’t remember having dinner at a restaurant, and was extremely… happy.

VIP+ gets you on the floor at 1:00pm before anyone else can look around. There are special seminars to attend, and you’ll also get special glassware beyond the standard that everyone else receives. Nicole Austin from George Dickel promises something extraordinary (and yet undisclosed).

VIP gets you through the door at 2:00pm, and you’ll visit booths an hour before General Admission. Exhibitors offer special VIP-only pours. Some big legacy distilleries served up their most sought-after limited-edition distilled spirits in previous years. I would expect the same this year.

Now, if you don’t have your tickets yet, you should know that both VIP+ and VIP tickets are sold out. However, General Admission and Designated Driver tickets are still available on the venue’s website.

General Admission gains entry at 3:00pm, and there’s still plenty of opportunity to taste awesome things that American-only distilleries have to offer. There are over 80 vendors from across the United States, and there are between 10 and 15 more tables this year than last.

No matter which ticket you possess, you’ll get a complimentary Glencairn nosing glass from the event’s sponsor, Bulleit Bourbon, and food throughout the evening. Attend the educational seminars – one is a cocktail class presented by Dancing Goat and J. Henry & Sons. Distill America is an outdoor event under tents. If you’ve never been to Madison in mid-May, you know we can have all four seasons on parade in a single day, so dress appropriately.

Finally, I’ll be walking around doing meet-and-greets with various distillers. As always, Mrs. Whiskeyfellow will attend, as will a very special guest this year: Mama Whiskeyfellow.

If you see me, stop me and say hello. I’m always happy to chat and make new friends. Together, we will #DrinkCurious. Cheers!

Whiskeyfellow encourages you to enjoy your whiskey as you see fit but begs you do so responsibly. 

[gctchell]

Gives Niffty the Tipsy bartender version of a grasshopper.

Oo.

Oo.

OO.

".. Nooope, nope nope nope, I can't risk getting totally schnockered before the big event! I'm gonna just.. put this in the veeeery back of the meat locker." No one will discover her secret big tub of alcoholic goodness there, right? She's picking it up and she's running off to the kitchen! She'll just take scoops of it every now and then.. Yeaaaah. Yeeeeah.

[nalgenes]

Off my schnocker rn just watched inception for first time in my life and i can’t believe they made the squinting dog into a movie

[littleharpethcrossfit]

Thursday,  23 March,  2023..... Warmup......Rocks & Rows...... 16 Minute WOD.

The first really fine Spring evening at the Barn of 2023.

Warm-up

4  Rounds

10  Push-Ups

10  Banded Good Mornings

Strength

Pendlay Rows:          10 / 8 / 6 / 4 / 2

Hollow Rocks:           15 / 15 / 15 / 15

Old Joe The Bird Man Will Study Videos and Teach These.  Also Old Paul.

Chase=185     Paul=170     Timmy=145      Coach/Herb=135     Tom/Chad=115  Joe=65     Sue/Average Dave/Elisa/Sabrina=45     Shannon=35     Linda=did it   Robert=did it but doesn’t want 6224 Elites to know he was here.  Alicia=seldom posts     Sam D=came for after-party.     Howard/Joe=did it with Joe Coaching but failed to post.      Louis=read a book he didn’t want me to see.     

Metabolic Conditioner

ON A 16 MINUTE CLOCK

Buy-In:

Run 800 / Row-Ski 1000 / Bike 2000m

THEN  6  ROUNDS:

3  Bumper Burpees     (E=45/25/15)

5  Pull-Ups     (E=C2B)

7  Box Jumps     (E=24/20)

SCORE:

POWER SNATCH  (E=95/75/55) Max Reps In Time Left

Timmy=57     Chase=52     Sue=39     Coach=37     Herb=26     Average Dave/Elisa=25      Paul/Sabrina=23    Tom=21      Linda/Shannon=16     Old Joe=13     Chad=8     Alicia/Howard/Robert/Sam D=??/Louis=God Only Knows.

Notes:

Sam D and Armando arrived after the workout but in time for the after-party.  I don’t mean to imply that they came in the same car.  Armando brought strawberries and something else (Shannon).  Sam D came empty handed.

One didn’t agree with the design of the workout and tried to re-arrange things and then pouted and started to do it scaled but realizing how weak they looked then added plates but wasted time and knowing they were going to finish behind more cooperative athletes they actually sat down in the red directors chair like they needed a rest due to the stupid programming and then didn’t post a score which normally they would exaggerate and inflate to impress all that don’t know this was his 3rd ELITE workout for the day.     

Meanwhile on the Girl’s deck to the East, there was no drama.  Never.

The Wine tasting was ridiculous.  Honest guys, we need to have a pre-party sign-up of bottles of wine so we don’t wind up with 12-14 bottles so that when we get schnockered and everyone thinks we can’t leave until all bottles are drained there is a problem.   I am concerned about you guys driving home.  I even worry about Mrs Rousseau and she only has to walk home.

Mrs Rousseau has a real kitchen and crock-pot now, so we finally enjoyed her better assets with a rather smallish dish of delicious meat-balls (Chicken).  I say smallish because Paul ate half of them (wife Susan is out of town) before I could find an unused toothpick.  Herb was salivating but he was awaiting his assistant Rabbi’s permission (I deemed them kosher) which never came.  I felt sorry for Herb.

Elisa brought a perfect Guacamole and those purple chips all of which was consumed.  

Saturday at 0730 and at 0930.  Please come to either session with a wholesome attitude.  

[theymakehistoryarchived]

//So recently we were given the opportunity to do a DNA test on Appa. With him being a rescue, we’ve never been 100% sure what he was - other than the best boy. We always guessed miniature schnauzer but was big for the breed, but now we know for sure!

I personally think this means he’s the baby of the dogs from Lady and the Tramp, based on how much Tramp looks like a schnauzer and that Lady is a cocker spaniel.

[the-iron-orchid]

🍻 - “ who are you, really ?” from Jinana to Asra

(drunken confessions meme)

S/he knows the question isn't really fair; even outpacing him by two to one, Jinana holds hir liquor far better than Asra does. But after all those years of being faced with an enigmatic front and mixed signals, it's so hard to resist cornering him sometimes, finally having him at a disadvantage.

Asra's eyes go wide, then he blinks slowly a few times, putting hir in mind of a baffled owlet. "I..." He pauses, sliding slowly down until his head is resting on his arms on the table, still looking up at hir. "I'm the one who'll do anything... to see you happy," he says. The words are somewhat slurred, but certain. "I'm the one who'll spit in Death's eye for you." He closes his eyes, a smile curving his lips.

"Who am I...? Yours."

[punkpoemprose]

Getting wine drunk on a Friday. Reblogged a couple ask memes, feel free to ask me stuff.

Will be doing some writing when I'm acceptably tipsy/schnockered, so stay tuned for prompt lists.

[franniefrog14]

This is all of my babies together before we moved. Lila is the darker one and she is the oldest of the two. She is also a schnocker (cocker spaniel - schnauzer mix). The youngest is a mini schnauzer and his name is Maximilian (Max).