When Keeping It Real On Twitter Goes Wrong ...

Just wait a goddamn minute here. Since when is simply drinking whiskey good enough? No, no, no. You have to APPRECIATE the whiskey. You have to sit on someone's porch and drink their grandpappy's whiskey. And we're not talking some shitty whiskey you can get from the liquor store down the street. Oh, no. This is FINE whiskey; whiskey that has been passed down from generation to generation. GRANDPAPPY'S whiskey!

Remember. This club is ELITE.

 

I am unmade!

 

Shit. I'm out.

 

You're gonna need a drink.

 

Don't worry, Az. There's a sober writers' club. It's called the National Review.

 

Site of the next meeting:

 

Ah, laddie, have ye not noticed this establishment runs to Irish whiskey?

 

Damn and damn again. I thought my laudanum habit and consumptive cough would keep me in the good grace of the veteran's committee.

Instead, expect my 9000-word argument toward a publicly funded study on the efficacy of private funding within the fortnight. Good day to you.

 

I think it's just the idea of loyalty.

And there's a limit to useful criticism.

 

Whatta silly-ass three-way battle. A pox on all their houses

 

Agree 100 percent on the first line.

Disagree on the second. I don't think there's a limit to useful criticism—what I get from my editors, for instance. I'll take all of that I can get. But I don't think mindless snark accomplishes anything. We're arrogant because we love and support each other? Because what, there's already too much generosity in the world? Who the fuck are you, O wise cynics, to tell us what we should think of or say to each other? Doesn't that take a spectacular arrogance, to presume that it's your job to oversee us, to keep us grounded and in our place? Who asked you?

You can do better? Go ahead. Knock me on my ass. Make me regret I ever became a writer. Just shut up and do it.

Story 101: Show, don't tell, remember?

 

If you're "enjoying" whiskey, you're not doing it right. Like casual drinking, what's the point?