The Scribbler ain’t happy with your sorry single-malt sipping ass:
There’s yet another annoying snobbery afoot in that place I like to call bar-land, (there always is with these aging “yups”), and this one has to do with single malt scotch and the newly minted single malt connoisseur.
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Hey, pal, five years ago, before your company went public, you didn’t know a Cabernet from Hire’s fucking root beer… okay? So relax, have a seat, take off your baseball cap (unless you’re pitching the back end of a twi-night double header), loosen your tie and have a nice Glenlivet. Whaddaya say?