Well, now here's the rest of the story. I don't drink anything alcoholic, never-well almost never- did. There have been times where discretion was the better part of valor and I have on those very rare occasions imbibed but only in the line of duty. The Wild Turkey actually was purchased for my parents and has been sitting around here in the back of a hutch for almost 12 years. As we are in the process of shifting stuff around getting ready for this new addition to the home my wife found it sitting back there and directed, that is DIRECTED I say, me to pour it down the sink. Still being slightly hobbled by a slower than expected recovery (my expectations and not the doctors) once again I thought that it would be prudent to follow the instructions provided unless I wanted to totally fend for myself for the foreseeable future... I mean what was I going to do with a three-quarter full bottle of hootch that no one wanted. If it will make you all feel better I will take the empty bottle out and shoot it tomorrow so that it dies a proper death. I was thinking about concocting my own physical therapy biathalon anyway. I have been walking laps up and back a 500 foot driveway and thought to spice up the turn arounds to pop a round off at a target at the end of every lap. I'll just incorporate the bottle into the target array. I mean hell, I walk sort of like a drunk anyway right now so I might as well complete the set
Jack Moroney-trying not to be labled the Elliot Ness of the Great Northern Forest