Whiskey N Whine

Ep.117 Chicken Cocked and Sleep Deprived

*]:pointer-events-auto R6Vx5W_threadScrollVars scroll-mb-[calc(var(--scroll-root-safe-area-inset-bottom,0px)+var(--thread-response-height))] scroll-mt-[calc(var(--header-height)+min(200px,max(70px,20svh)))]" dir="auto" data-turn-id= "request-WEB:104f531c-5c7e-4da8-9dac-dac1ebb728ea-1" data-turn-id-container= "request-WEB:104f531c-5c7e-4da8-9dac-dac1ebb728ea-1" data-testid= "conversation-turn-4" data-scroll-anchor="false" data-turn= "assistant"> Mike somehow survived the busiest week of his adult life and immediately rewarded himself with one of the worst whiskeys we've ever tasted. This week the boys return to the studio after Mother's Day weekend to try Chicken Cock Southern Spice, gifted to us by Booze Brian, which tastes like someone soaked Christmas pinecones in regret and poured it into an aluminum bottle with a screw top. Truly horrific stuff. We recap the 14-hour Mother's Day dance competition marathon at the Oregon Convention Center, complete with mimosas, pastries, an aggressively overachieving coffee bar by Derek, and five dads wearing matching track suits that somehow got compliments all day long. Honestly, we should've entered the competition ourselves. Mike also breaks down his Arizona death march: * 4am flights * two graduations * consecutive 2am bar nights * moving Madi out * a packed party house with 12 people * and a Frankenstein Bloody Mary stacked with more food than alcohol. Somewhere in the middle of all this, we discover the Oregon Convention Center security guards may not survive a strong gust of wind. Thankfully, the second half of the episode returns to sanity with our beloved Green River Wheated bourbon because after surviving Chicken Cock Southern Spice, we deserved a reward.

Ep.116 From Sunny D to Ayahuasca: A Mother's Day Special

Episode 116 of Whiskey n Whine is less bourbon, more brunch—and significantly more accountability. Mike bravely (and perhaps foolishly) invites both his mom and mother-in-law on the show for an early Mother's Day special, immediately regretting every life decision that led to this moment. Armed with mimosas instead of whiskey (for liability reasons), the moms waste no time exposing decades of Mike's finest work. We learn that high school Mike was living a double-dinner lifestyle, somehow eating at home and at Kati's like a growing boy with zero shame. Meanwhile, the next generation isn't faring much better—burning instant mac and cheese by forgetting the one key ingredient: water. Things escalate quickly as long-buried stories surface, including: * The origin of Mike's legendary nickname: "The Groper" * Why he was issued oven mitts for prom night * The "totally just friends" camping trip that absolutely wasn't * And the time Mike accidentally took ayahuasca at a house party, mistook headlights for a dragon, and heroically leapt onto a car hood to save the realm We also uncover that: * Madi is still upset she wasn't invited to her parents' wedding… despite not being alive yet * Kati runs Mike's bar with an iron fist and a reputation that inspires fear * A 12-passenger van for 13 people is apparently a sound financial decision * And Alex is being pressured into full cabana boy duty, whether anyone is ready for that visual or not It's heartwarming, it's chaotic, and it's deeply incriminating. Happy Mother's Day—call your mom before she calls into a podcast and tells your worst stories instead.

Ep.115 Clipped, Sipped, and Slightly Stripped (Close Your Damn Curtains)

Episode 115 comes to you live-ish from a hotel balcony at the Vancouver Hilton, where the audio is questionable, the decisions are worse, and the drinks are doing all the heavy lifting. Mike and Alex are several beverages deep at the Celebrity Dance Competition, staring down the second-to-last comp of the season and feeling every bit of it in their souls (and livers). With one final showdown looming at the Oregon Convention Center—aka their personal hell—they're hanging on by a thread… and apparently by tiny plastic clothesline clips. That's right, a new tradition has emerged: children sneak up and clip you to show affection. It's adorable in theory, but in practice it's turned two grown men into paranoid, flinching wrecks. Things escalate quickly when Mike's mom "accidentally" gooses Alex with one, and honestly… we're not convinced it was an accident. The day spirals in the best way possible: Bloody Marys turn into Texas Marys topped with an entire BBQ platter, which turn into beers, which obviously turn into whiskey—because hydration matters. Meanwhile, Mike and Andy are trapped at the comp until 9pm, while Alex pulls off a legendary early escape at 2:30pm… immediately getting called out for sprinting back to the bar across the street after witnessing exactly one dance. From their balcony perch, the guys also realize they have a little too much visibility into neighboring hotel rooms. So quick PSA: if you're staying at a hotel during a dance competition, CLOSE. YOUR. CURTAINS. You're welcome. Also discussed: missed opportunities to launch objects off the balcony with a giant slingshot, serious consideration of sneaking into the lounge to deploy a hide-a-bed nap, and the general realization that they may be aging out of this level of nonsense… but absolutely will not stop. It's sloppy, it's inappropriate, it's mildly concerning—and it's exactly what you signed up for. Cheers. 🥃

Ep.114 Dude Spa: Now Featuring Brisket Facials

Episode 114 kicks off with the kind of pain you can only earn—two dozen deviled eggs deep and questioning every life decision that led you there. Let's just say Mike and Alex weren't the only ones suffering…shoutout to the spouses who survived the fallout. From there, things get philosophical. If a decades-old fast food "happy meal" can sit in a glass case looking fresh as ever…what's stopping us from weaponizing those preservatives? Is immortality just a McRib away? Introducing the newest wellness trend: Dude Spa—where instead of cucumbers on your eyes, it's cheeseburgers on your face and fries exfoliating your pores. Naturally, this spirals into Portland sports talk where the verdict is in: the Portland Trail Blazers are absolutely not making a meaningful playoff run—but at least we've got nostalgia. The guys dive headfirst into the Netflix throwback Jailblazers, reliving the glory days of the team, including the legend himself, Rasheed Wallace—yes, the same guy whose house once showed up on MTV Cribs and whose neighborhood Mike may or may not have personally downgraded for a brief period of time. We've got stories about the "bad boys" era, questionable road trip decisions, and why buying a mansion in Dunthorpe is a great way to go broke strictly via property taxes. Meanwhile, back in reality, Mike is embarking on his farewell tour of smoked meat greatness—one last ride through Loowit and Smokin Oak, ending (as all great journeys should) with a heroic plate of brisket nachos. It's episode 114: equal parts nostalgia, poor digestion, and a deep commitment to making the same bad decisions again…just with better seasoning.

Ep.113 From Augusta to 'Absolutely Not Approved'

It's Masters Sunday and the boys are doing it the only way they know how—stuffing their faces with egg salad, pimento cheese, BBQ pork, and an irresponsible number of deviled eggs while washing it all down with beer and a generous pour of EH Taylor Barrel Proof. Andy joins Mike and Alex as they attempt to watch golf but instead spiral into what might be their most dangerous idea yet: opening a gentleman's club next to a golf resort. From "shooting an eagle" bottle service to the Tiger Woods Special shuttle, this business plan goes from questionable to absolutely unapprovable in record time. Meanwhile, Mike laughs so hard he considers medical intervention, Alex realizes his Augusta pine cone dreams are dead, and the group commits to finishing 24 deviled eggs… consequences be damned (mostly for their wives). Also on the card: surprise "breast lift" texts that aren't what they seem, a loyalty program that rivals the FedEx Cup, and the horrifying concept of golfers trading "jerseys" on the 18th green. Golf was watched. Eggs were eaten. Regrets are pending.