Hong Kong 2018; noodles for breakfast, chicken feet and shrimp with the shell fried on under the breading for dinner, censored internet (if it even works at all) and my vision occasionally going blurry from jet lag. its funny how desperation leads to our standards being “lowered”, or maybe it’s that the comfort of basic staples available in our homeland become more desirable when removed from arms reach, or is it our senses are numbed when we grow accustomed to our surroundings and we seek uniqueness and label it “better”?- the waiter brought me a neat glass of JW black - it sat in front of my like naked lady chocolate figurines that had been slowly melted into my cup - and my tongue was riddled with simple pubescent sexual desires. ...after a few sips of this and my satisfaction level might as well have been sipping on a 30 year old scotch in my living room, getting my shoulders massaged, watching godfather 1, with a fresh club sandwich- it was pure deliciousness. Smokey toffee flavored whiskey - the caol ila simmers on the back of your tongue and gives you just enough kick at the end to put a smile of your face- it’s definitely a smooth and fantastic, well here anyway... yes I said “here”; part of me believes these sentiments are boundless and I’m the idiot for convincing myself that $100+ whiskeys are what I need to quench that desire at home, I think it’s me who’s had my whiskey standards displaced- because at home I might not agree with my self, but I know it to be true that: JW black is a very very good whiskey anywhere. Nuff said.