Diem natalem felicem mihi!
Yes, friends, it is my birthday: Happy Birthday to Me!
Here at Roma Aeterna on the Ides of November, the gods have been good to us. An exotic new spirit has come in to my hands, not the work of my household (the miserable wretches), but a gift from visiting friends. Once again those clever barbarians from across the Mare Atlanticum have concocted a new drink, this one in "imitation" of the Caledonians! Imagine that--a tribe of woodsy roughnecks copying the practices of those bog-dwellers! And speaking of bogs, this spirit, called McCarthy's, is flavored with the very bogs of the Caledonian homeland. Yes, this "whiskey" (so-called in their savage tongue), has a "peaty" flavor, something like burning tar or pitch. Vile to imagine, I know, but wondrous on the tongue. Smooth and full with this dazzling smokiness, I can't get enough of McCarthy's. It is from someplace called "Oregon," filled with foreigners, not even provincials, and I shudder to think what life there is like. I shall set the servants to work making offerings to Juno to thank her for our abundance. And if they do a poor job of it, I'll sacrifice one of them! Beware the Ides, indeed.
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