vodka

Help! I’m dry!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Last night when I approached my mum about doing a long-overdue booze run to get us stocked up, I found her watching a podcast on alcoholism of all things. I said, “Hey, what about the shopping, then? I have reviews to do,” and she said, “Well, about that.”

She said she was not entirely convinced of my harmlessness.

I said, “If you are talking to bears then we’re way past harmlessness and into something more like psychosis. Get me my liquor.”

And then she said, “You’re not the first bear I’ve ever talked to. And you won’t be the last.” Then she went back to her podcast.

I said, “I need the following: Grey Goose, some Kirschwasser cherry brandy, Jim Beam, and of course more Malibu. We always need Malibu.”

Then she said: “I’m feeling a little guilty about you. You have, perhaps, gotten out of control.”

I decided I didn’t like the tone this was taking and continued with my list. “And I need Nesquik. I’m going to put Nesquik in the Grey Goose. To make it more family-friendly.”

“Why don’t you do something else, LB?”

“I don’t have anything else; this is all I’ve got.”

Her ass was in my way so I couldn’t shove her off the computer. And even if I could, my paws are not suited to typing; they’re just little nubs really.

So that’s where my liquor reviews are at today, people. I’ll let you know when my mum falls off the wagon.

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POLAR ICE Vodka

My Fellow Inebriates,

I was attracted to POLAR ICE for obvious reasons. With a bear on the label, you can’t go wrong. With its reasonable price and plastic mickey, POLAR ICE struck me as unpretentious and safely shatterproof—not to mention as bear-friendly as a vodka can get without devising some sort of opening mechanism for thumbless bears who lack grip strength.

So my first order of business this week was to procure a bottle of POLAR ICE and reel around with it.

For twelve bucks ($24 for 750 mL) I expected something on the rough side, and so my first taste of POLAR ICE was a shock, albeit a clean, refreshing one. This is a smooth, smooth vodka, quadruple-distilled from rye, and the sort of spirit that easily disappears into a mixer. This is exactly the sort of vodka that gets bears into trouble.

And so I plied my friend Glen Bear with some POLAR ICE. Now, Glen is a genuine polar bear; he’s big and brawny and goes around on all fours. Permanently infantile and for IQ purposes pushing the high 20s, Glen is as dumb an animal as you can find. But I thought it fitting to share my vodka with a lovable polar bear, and Glen was hanging around, drooling slightly.

Glen loved it. If I’d had any doubts about embracing this cheap(ish) vodka, they were vanquished watching Glen lumber drunkenly around the house after lapping POLAR ICE out of a bowl.

You have to be careful with polar bears, I realize now. I should have remembered my mum has this friend whose dad was in the armed forces up north, and one time he saw a polar bear trying to take down a helicopter while holding a seal under its arm. They are powerful creatures and you really don’t want to get them too f#cked up. So I had to comfort Glen a little, and spoon with him until he got himself under control.

All in all, another good adventure, and good reason to RECOMMEND this product.