failed blogs

failed blogs

 

Failed blogs for crown royal northern harvest rye

 

Sometimes, we just fail. Not everything we do here is perfect and so here are a couple fine examples of when we fall short on delivering the goods. Here are a couple failed blogs for crown royal northern harvest rye. They suck.

 

you like Canadian music, i like Canadian music, don’t you like Canadian music baaaaby?

 

If you’ve ever traveled through Canada, you probably noticed we do things a little differently here. Our standup comedians are not funny, our hockey teams are horrid and we measure our travel distance in time, so we can relate to our neighboring country, the only people on earth to not use the metric system. And if you’ve travelled through Canada, you may have turned on a television and had to endure hours of Canadian television, like pbs fundraisers, rick mercer rants or teen mom reruns on much(less) music. And if you’ve ever turned on the radio while travelling through Canada, you will have to endure the constant torture of hearing Canadian music, which we are required to play on our radio stations, by law. Matter of fact, in Canada our radio stations are obligated to play music with up to 40% Canadian content, before being allowed to play some palatable American or English music. It has been rumoured that canada’s own band ‘skinny puppy’ is played at high volumes to induce sonic torture on captives in the American torture prison Guantanamo bay.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Canada has some serious talent, like neil young, david Wilcox, burton cummings, or the stampeders but this isn’t the 70’s anymore and we paved the way for deadmouse(de4dmau5?), blue rodeo, beiber, the tragically hip, billy talent or dare I even mention…. Max webster.

Sure, anybody can make the argument that nickelback fills stadiums, but so do soccer games(pause for laughter). After all, it is canadas fate to be known for a huge resurgence in power pop rock bands, like geez, I don’t know…. bryan adams.

If you’ve ever known bad music, you know bryan adams. Heres my point; if you’ve played in a shitty garage cover band, you started by playing ‘smoke on the water’ then the next song you played was bryan adam’s opus ‘summer of 69’. And wouldn’t you think that 69 should have an apostrophe in front of it, signifying that it’s a song about a year? Oooh, you poor thing. Truth is, that acne scarred sting wannabe isn’t talking about the year, he’s talking about the sex act.

On some late night talk show, bryan adams was interviewed regarding his lengthy career playing Canadian power pop-rock music and being questioned why nobody has killed him yet(may we make the point of saying that said show has consequentially been cancelled for only being able to pull in lack luster guests with the likes of bryan adams). And so on this show, bryan adams felt the need to report to all of the show’s audience member that the song ‘summer of 69’ is about the one time he performed a particular sex act on a woman, when the two partners engage in oral sex in a north/south position. If you correlate the fact that he was only ten years old in 1969 it makes things all the more putrid.

Anyway, bryan adams is widely regarded for his ho-hum kind of bland music who performs 3 minute jaunts of predictable, underwhelming teen rock songs written by a forty(plus) year old man with a lyric plot based on words like ‘oh baby’ and ‘yeah!’.

I was tricked into buying a bryan adams tape as a kid by a buddy of mine saying that bryan adams ‘is the best in the world’. Being a trusted friend, I believed him. What else, his friend, who the two never seemed to agree on anything also told me that I should buy the bryan adams cassette tape, because ‘it doesn’t matter what anybody says… it’s just simply incredible’. So, I went to the local music shop and I put out 20 of my own hard earned dollars to buy a cassette tape with a picture of a guy who looks like he shaves with a hot cheese grater. Guessing how there has never been a bryan adams album cover with a clear picture of his face, it might be assumed that he is indeed horribly disfigured from a dog bite incident or by flying through a car’s windshield face-first, but no, it’s just untreated acne scarring.

The album was sooo not bad. If I were to rate it I would mark it the low 80’s out of 100.

 

 

Another failed crown nhr blog

 

Come back 2015!! Hey, hey! Guess what! Fuck you 2015!!!

 

My dick isn’t exactly huge. It’s not small, but it’s not anything anybody is going to write about in their diary. My dick doesn’t even really please anybody other than myself either, which is why quite often I’m caught slapping my dick like a sasquatch trying to extinguish a forest fire. The thing is though; my dick gets rock fucking hard and magma hot, like hard and hot enough to produce diamonds; diamonds that can fill a coffee cup in one shot.

I eat enough foie gras for the spca to do fundraisers against me and I eat more donuts than all the Canadian police force combined – sometimes on the same plate. The point is, its 2015 and I can still achieve a hard on better than most of my friends who were complaining about a limp dick problem in 2005 and asking me to fill the survey for free Viagra samples so I can give the pills to them. I’m 35 and still alive. I’m aging and smoothing out like a fine Canadian whisky.

2015 couldn’t be a better year and its fading away. This year we witnessed the death of the hipster, the man bun and the bro. mumford and sons ditched the banjos and acoustic guitars for electric, signifying that even they couldn’t stand the 1895 fashion anymore and turned their back on the trendy people who wear square glasses or scarves in September. Bros are fading into the realization that the summers over and the ufc sucks now. Hopefully the bros can migrate south for the winter and get the shit kicked out of them in a football tailgate brawl. I can proudly let my freak flag fly and wear my pig destroyer and cannibal corpse shirts around to distilleries and liquor stores and not be bullied for being an individual. And I’m most gracious that the man bun is strictly soccer fashion again.

Rejoice! the whalers and beards will soon reclaim its rightful place as punk rock. Fifth wave punk rock(pop punk/mall punk) has dissipated into a cruel joke and we haven’t had to endure a tragically hip album this year. I can’t think of one time I was at a concert having some kid tell me his weed is kush, rather kids are all about shatter and dabs, shit I gave up when I was a kid. Good to see the world is finally catching up.

Matter of fact 2015 has been pretty good for Canadian whisky(and us here at Canadian whisky enthusiast). Three grain harmony, three new Corby’s whiskies, an excellent crown royal and the continuation of Canadian club 20 year and some new whisky friends have kept me smiling.

But wait…. 2015, you did some nasty stuff this year. 2015, you allowed the Toronto blue jays to become a laughable fad, discarded like a broken pleasure toy when no longer useful. 2015 killed bb king. 2015, you allowed top notch writers like dave broom to leave whisky magazine and pave the way for more articles by the square headed, ascot wearing, hipster reviving, holier than thou, pompous, catfish faced fred minnick, who looks like rosie o donnell and john goodman’s kid, and they didn’t have the mindset to roll his head in his sleep as a baby, so his face looks like a box with botox lips. Furthermore, he reminds me of a fat person who doesn’t wear a shirt in the warm weather and probably has large patches of freckles on his shoulders. Gross.

Worst of all 2015 you turned my go-to whisky writers into a zombie horde of jim murray speculators. I have not read one fucking review for northern harvest rye in which a writer has not mentioned the almost criminal and sponsored, fictional writing of jim murray. Oh no! I’ve been bitten too. Brains! Brains! Grains! Grains!

When I ran into a guy who recently discovered his passion for new world whisky(because of me), he was so excited to tell me the news of the world’s best whisky being a Canadian. ‘We should be so proud!’ he drunkenly stammered while he spit chewed chicken wings skin in my mouth and rubbed his cigarette fingers all over my agoraphobic nosebleed shirt. ‘a Canadian whisky got best in the world!’ he slurred. ‘I can sell those 50mL airplane bottles to the Chinese for $20 a piece!’

Sure, some dude gave crown royal’s northern harvest rye the gold for 2015, catapulting the prestige and reputation of Canadian whisky into a giant pile of shame and martyrdom, worldwide. Thanks to this giant prick fuck, he has damaged the name of Canadian whisky by giving the #1 spot in the world in his whisky bible book, which works better as an ignition for lighting a house on fire, or for bitch slapping French Canadians.

Sure Canadian whisky is great. I’m sure you know I love it, but it’s not fair to mock a whole whisky producing nation just to promote book sales. Canadian whisky is in a fight for its life and we have a guy kicking it while it’s still on one knee. By saying its best in the world, he effectively cockblocked other very well made Canadians, top notch bourbons and well aged scotches and Japanese single malts. Saying this is the best Canadian in the world makes all other remaining Canadians look poor in comparison, meanwhile reflecting on all other world whiskies too.

Canadian whisky is great, and is still reeling from a reputation for known as being cheap, bland and best for mixing and social lubrication. Matter of fact, when corbys released some very flavourful and bold Canadians a decade back, they were rejected and pushed back into a decade of obscurity in favour of mixing grade Canadian rye. Just recently Canadian whiskies have began sticking up for themselves and are becoming well known for using high quality barrels, aging regimens and we have some top notch blenders working on our side too. Pretty soon, we may very well see a Canadian whisky become of such high quality it could very well become a notorious contender in the world, but not this bottle. Its good, and a must try bottle, but a contender for a worldwide acceptance? No.

Naming a Canadian, bottom shelf whisky is controversial and controversy sells. The person who has named it the best in the world is famous for the same reasons the kardashians are famous: nobody knows why. And just like the kardashians this guy is fake and manufactured by celebrity. If we just collectively close our eyes to jim murray, he will just – go – away.

Or, he could die from old age.

 

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