As you may well have noticed, we here at The Gentleman Blog have had a brief, yet lengthy, hiatus. This has been due to our expedition to the South Pole, where we were searching for the remainder of Ernest Shackleton’s lost scotch collection.
After recovering an entire case of Shackleton’s scotch, which we found next to a Norwegian flag, we returned home. The journey took longer than expected, though, as we were simultaneously enjoying our bounty while navigating. You, dear reader, will be pleased to know that an entire half-bottle remains from the case, but we do not forecast it to survive the writing of this post.
As such, we were at sea during The Gentleman Blog’s second birthday. This date did not pass unnoticed by us, and we enjoyed a glass of scotch in celebration. But the cabin of our barque - HMS Humidor – is no place to write a Gentleman Blog post. And anyway, we used all our typewriter ribbon detailing the tasting notes of our newly acquired liquor, of which there is none left (as of the end of this sentence).
Due to our inhibited navigational skills (partly because of our insistence on using 15th century navigational equipment) we happened to come across a previously uncharted isle. We spent the next few weeks trying to learn the indigenous language and customs. We were treated as kings, and treated our hosts as kings. It was quite confusing.
We left many weeks later. After alerting Rand McNally to our discovery we were notified this isle was, in fact, the continent of South America – home to nigh on 400 million inhabitants.
On the final leg of our voyage home, however, we were confronted with another obstacle. Somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean we encountered the thing of gentlemen’s nightmares – an empty liquor cabinet.
After sending a distress SMS (Send More Scotch) signal, our minds were taken off the crisis by a Kraken attack. Unlike the previous catastrophe, for this we had a contingency plan – Kirt Douglas. Kirt Douglas can fight Kraken in his sleep.
Following all this commotion we made for home as quickly as is gentlemanly possible. Specifically, 110 chains per Scottish minute.
So there you have it and until next time,
G.O. Brixley and H.L. Griffith