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Glenelg, Mars. What a place to make whiskey!

  • Glenelg, Mars. What a place to make whiskey! An underground sea of ice had to be thawed by a small solar stove a drip at a time. Microponically grown barley for the mash. The 1st

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  • batch was going to be finished in the year 2525. Will man still be alive? And will he want whiskey? Cree left the hut and headed for the Glegelg station. It was a half day by dog

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  • sleigh, but Cree's dogs were having none of it, they just laid there like the lazy drunken fleabags they were. Glegelg station could wait, he supposed. Now where was that whiskey?

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  • He hunted down the whiskey and sat on the sofa, swilling it in his mouth. In his drunken haze, he saw a vision of the future. Humanity would be threatened by the appearance of blue

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  • wet stuff flooding all inhabitable land. But alcohol is supposed to help you forget past regrets, not formulate future ones. He put a cocktail umbrella in his whiskey. How cheerful

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  • , but maybe pink would be cheerier. He looked at the 2 cocktail umbrellas, paralysed into indecision. So he decided to drink his whisky umbrellaless. "What a cop-out!" He looked up

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  • at...(WHAT?!)...Mary Poppins. "Never take any trip, real or alcohol induced, without an umbrella," she said crisply, then proceeded to join me at the bar. Whoa...I can't believe

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  • that Mary Poppins is so stacked, and has retained her youthful appearance well into her 90s. "How do you keep your skin so marvelously smooth," I ask her, trying to get a look

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  • that would kill. Mary Poppins wiped the milk off her upper lip. "I'm not going to answer your ludicrous questions stupid man." Well, she asked for it. I had to go great guns

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  • hit crazy. With one swipe of my arm, I threw the entire English breakfast onto the floor for the dog to eat. "Dammit, Mary, I love you! Let me take you to Neverland!"

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