The Honey Hell. It wasn’t even good whiskey. Cheap Canadian rye is what it was, but it was free and it tasted just like honey to me. Every drinking man knows that there are some days when you get the honey, and some days when you get the bear. Bless his kind heart and soul, my Uncle Dick was always generous with his cheap whiskey. Not intending to seem without appreciation for kindness of that sort, I saw it as my duty to revel heartily of that cheap whiskey; for the more of it that I could put away the less of it he had to drink. It was a simple way, as I saw it, to return one act of kindness for another. It was Christmastime back in 1981 and we were celebrating
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