Lukewarm apology: the headline is clickbait. This post is all about the whiskey, not the oil.

In my quest for the perfect Sazerac (as reported here and here) I’ve concluded that perfection is on the palate of the beholder. From this moment on I will refrain from declaring whether a particular offering is good, bad or indifferent. I’m a guidepost, not your conscience. Quid pro quo: Don’t tell me which King I should prefer: Albert, Freddie or BB.
Continue Reading Searching for Oil … and a Sazerac

As another college football weekend approaches, let’s talk whiskey.  All work and no play might save Jack’s liver from decaying into a bile-filled mass of diseased tissue, but the oil man needs a break from the burden of termination clauses, stolen trade secrets, and – as revealed by Yoko and Shawn – desecration of Mother

A Quiz:

I don’t always read blogs, but when I do, I prefer Energy and the Law.

“Sazerac”: (a) The bar in the Roosevelt Hotel in New Orleans, (b) A wholly-owned subsidiary of the oil field company with the blue trucks, (c) Cyrano, the French guy with the big nose, (d)