Tastes

Hey Distiller Gang, WKVN Channel 4’s Sports reporter Champ Kind here! My Channel 4 News lead anchorman, and real life best friend Ron Burgundy, left an opened bottle of his scotch- Great Odin’s Raven on the news desk and I knew he wouldn’t mind if I had a splash, whammy. It says it’s a blended scotch, kinda like how him and me are a blend of two halves of the same whole. He’s the Yin to my Yang, in a completely plutonic way of course, and I have to say it’s a delicious scotch indeed. Now, I usually go for a shot of Wild Turkey, some chicken wings and a pint of MGD while watching football with the guys, but I could see adding this to the rotation on a regular basis. The smell reminds me of the time me and Ron went over to the Channel 9 Evening News team’s turf looking for a fight. Instead, we found Wes Mantooth’s mother, Dorothy Mantooth, wondering around the park. Me, being the constipated gentleman I am, asked her to accompany me down to the local lobster house where we had a delicious seafood dinner. I took her home, read her a bedtime story about how Joe Namath was the greatest NFL QB to ever lace up a pair of cleats, and bid her Au River- that’s France for goodnight. She slipped her phone number into my blazer pocket, but I hope she realizes that I will never call her. Wee-eww-wee-eew!! Get this crazy lingo out of my brain! I had to get all that fufu French talk out of my head so I chugged the last of Ron’s scotch. I wish I could remember the taste, but I drank so much of it that I blacked out. When I woke up I was clinging naked to the hood of some Russian lady’s station wagon as she drove down Market St towards Embarcadero Park. I don’t know what she was screaming at me through the windshield- all I heard was something about diversity, and said “Listen lady, what the hell does this have to do with that old, old wooden ship that Ron was talking about that day at the station?! Drop me off there so I can read some sports scores!”. She just kept on driving until I flung myself off 2 blocks from WKVN. The sad part is that the last of Ron’s scotch hit the curb and bounced back into my hands, only to shatter when I put it to my lips again, whammy. Bottom line, Great Odin’s Raven is the best scotch money can buy, and if I had it my way Ron and I would get an apartment together where we could drink it all day and night. Go buy it or I will smash your face through a car windshield!