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20141123_191523

About the only clever thing I can say or do to review this edition of Kilchoman is to provide you with the following photos and ask: What do the following two images hold in common?

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If you guessed that both contain an object that seems inappropriately placed, then you’d be right.

Walking through the local Walmart, I discovered that this store’s manager was comfortably satisfied putting an energy drink cooler right between two shelf units in the bakery. Um… I guess I can see how someone might associate getting jacked up on a caffeine drink with choosing the right loaf of French bread. I mean, who am I to judge such a reasonable culinary mindset?

And so it is with the photo of my liquor cabinet. The Kilchoman doesn’t belong. And I won’t belabor this review with any unnecessary rhetoric. Quite simply, this whisky sucks…badly. In fact, I can say that I have finally found an edition that rivals the likes of Scoresby.

The nose is harsh, like a full inhalation of black mold…or perhaps the soured smell of a semi-pro wrestling arena restroom overflowing and spilling into the corridors with patrons who wreak of sweat, urine, and cheap cigars…and maybe some puke.

The palate is thoroughly gasoline flavored with a little bit of freshly flushed sewage to give it warmth.

The finish, well, that’s a little harder to describe. I suppose I might compare it to throwing myself off of a medium-sized cliff as opposed to a canyon. Ricocheting against the craggled and jagged fascia, you hit the bottom. Having smeared for a few hundred feet, you finally come to a stop and die. But in your last breath, you give thanks that, as I said, at least the finish was medium and not long.

Overall, on an enjoyment scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being extraordinary, I’d say it is a negative 437.912, which is almost an even negative 438. I took a few extra decimal points away because the bottle presentation was decently enticing and yet I felt a bit betrayed.

By the way, the bottle in the photo is nearly empty only because I started to dump it, but I remembered that I still needed to take the photo and stopped just in time.