Whiskey N Whine

Halloween is almost here, the kids are growing up, the fantasy football teams are falling apart, and apparently we're one bad bourbon away from drinking straight gasoline. Welcome back to Whiskey n Whine, where two dads attempt to discuss whiskey and somehow spend an hour yelling at football players who have absolutely no idea who we are.

This week, Alex and Big Mike kick things off with an experimental Infinity Barrel blend that tastes suspiciously like premium unleaded. After nearly melting their faces off, they switch gears to Old Charter Oak from Buffalo Trace. Is this oak-aged bourbon worth the $80 price tag, or are the boys just grateful to have something that doesn't burn a hole through their esophagus?

Then things get really stupid.

Fantasy football sends the guys into a full-blown emotional spiral, complete with desperate prayers for Sam Darnold, questionable player evaluations, and a reminder that betting on Chinese ping-pong based solely on the players' names is probably not a sustainable financial strategy.

They also cover Halloween candy that mysteriously disappears before trick-or-treating, the joys of being empty-nest dads, college football's ever-expanding playoffs, the surprising start to the Trail Blazers season, and why nobody needs another meaningless bowl game.

Plus, the guys start planning future episodes involving nose waxing, chili cook-off farts, and the possible return of Don and John. Naturally, the planning meeting consists mostly of making jokes and accomplishing absolutely nothing.

In this episode:

• Old Charter Oak bourbon review and rating

• The Infinity Barrel: when your homemade blend becomes a fire hazard

• Fantasy football misery, bad bets, and questionable life choices

• Halloween candy theft and the changing realities of dad life

• College football playoff debates and NFL overtime frustrations

• The Trail Blazers are fun again. Yes, really.

• Nose waxing, chili farts, and other terrible ideas we're considering

Pour yourself something decent, hide the Halloween candy from yourself, and join us for another round of Whiskey n Whine.

Drink responsibly. Manage your fantasy team irresponsibly.

Alex and Big Mike are back with another episode of Whiskey n Whine, and this week, we're barely holding it together. Literally.

After a marathon Oregon Ducks tailgate, a late-night football game, and enough traffic bitching to qualify for AARP, the boys settle in to drink Pilot House Distilling's Barrel & Tide American Single Malt Whiskey. But between Mike's fantasy football roster full of guys nobody's ever heard of, Alex's ongoing war with a rogue chipmunk living on his 50-foot-high deck, and a digestive system that apparently filed for early retirement, things go spectacularly off the rails.

At one point, Alex has to hit pause because nature calls, and Mike is left laughing while his cohost negotiates a hostage situation with his own asshole. Naturally, the conversation turns to potential sponsors. Depends? BlueChew? Why not both? We may shit ourselves, but at least we can still get hard as a rock.

Plus, the guys debate the ideal college football kickoff time for aging dads, complain about $880 hotel rooms in Eugene, question whether fantasy football is actually a game of skill, and discover that sometimes the secret to winning is simply not giving a shit.

Football is back, our teams are absolute dog shit, and somehow we're still drinking like we're celebrating a championship.

Alex and Big Mike settle in for an NFL Sunday full of overtime drama, fantasy football heartbreak, and the Washington Commanders discovering that even a tie can feel like a loss. Meanwhile, Mike relives the special kind of Cleveland Browns trauma that involves flying beer bottles, rogue batteries, and the NFL commissioner telling everyone to get their asses back on the field.

We also investigate the legendary 2001 Cleveland Bottle Gate incident, debate whether modern college students could dismantle a hydraulic goalpost, and question the engineering genius behind lowering a giant metal structure directly into the hands of thousands of drunk college kids.

Mike recaps an Oregon Ducks road trip that had perfect weather, legendary tailgating, free food for approximately 47 starving college students, and one minor inconvenience: the Ducks forgot how to play football. We also discuss Beaver optimism, late-night kickoffs, embarrassing your kids at Blazers games, and the potential introduction of a stadium hot dog launcher. Because nothing says family entertainment like catching a flying glizzy with your bare hands.

This week's whiskey is Weller Antique 107, a delicious $60 bottle that Oregon's liquor overlords apparently believe is a mythical creature. We both give it a Gold, because the bourbon is fantastic and our grading system apparently includes a penalty for living in the wrong state.

Plus, we pay tribute to legendary Bears coach Mike Ditka, revisit some classic SNL greatness, and discover that the only thing more painful than watching your team lose is watching your fantasy football quarterback score points against your actual team.

Pour something strong, prepare to be disappointed by your favorite football team, and remember: if your team can't win, at least your bourbon doesn't have to suck.

Cheers, you degenerates!

Buckle up - Episode 121 (yeah, we know we missed a couple of weeks) does not ease you in to it. We kick off with Alex's tour of the south with McKenna. Kentucky, Tennessee and Northcarolina in 4 days, too many flights and a plane that could not pressurize. Mike takes his annual trip to Cleveland - a reunion with McCurdy and finds more meat than he can handle (you do the math). It's loud, it's over the top and you really just had to be there. Ready to hit play?

Jackson's 20 now, which means he's "pushing 30" and fair game for every dad joke we've got.

The birthday boy joins us fresh off a summer that got him banned from a ballpark, nearly fist-fought in Vancouver, and permanently allergic to patchouli oil. First, he gets kicked out of Petco Park inside 24 hours of move-in — thank a buddy who couldn't stop chucking Michelob Ultras over the railing. Then it's a trip through a Reed College party that smelled like consent forms and regret, and a Canadian bar brawl narrowly avoided thanks to his very drunk, very Irish best friend Declan going full Conor McGregor over nothing. We top it off trading our own decades-old bar fight war stories — folding chairs, cold cocks, and one man who learned the hard way what happens when you turn your back mid-fight — and hand down the sacred code every friend group needs: the nut tap.

Also this week: Broad Ranch Big Winston actually doesn't suck (miracles happen), fantasy football gets messy, and we somehow end up defending America's honor to three girls from Surrey.

We survived Oil Fire. We survived Jackson's stories. Season 5, still standing.

🔞 Season 5 opens with a bang, a blowout, and absolutely zero seduction.

An Oklahoma superfan smuggles us "Oil Fire" — self-proclaimed America's first seductive spirit — across four state lines in a paper bag, riding shotgun in a VW RV that blew two tires and dropped its exhaust twice getting here. We go in neat, we go in blind, and by the second sip we can confirm: nobody's getting lucky tonight. This thing hits like a Four Loko had a baby with a candy corn factory, and Dr. Pepper doesn't save it — it just gets darker and somehow sweeter. Lowest score in show history. Sorry, Kev.

Also this week: Alex blows out his meniscus doing an unsanctioned freestyle move at a dad-daughter dance recital (twirling has consequences), fantasy football draft prep has us begging AI for help, and Jackson's summer of expensive life lessons (poison oak rubbed in with a towel, a job that cost more than it paid) gets the roast it deserves.

Came in guns blazing. Left with a headache and a knee brace. Welcome back.

This week Mike and Alex are joined by recurring fan favorite Madi for her FOURTH appearance and podcast rookie Cooper, who somehow survives his debut despite carrying the worst travel karma in modern aviation history. Madi just graduated from Arizona State University, Cooper is headed to University of Oregon, and Mike is celebrating the financial miracle of swapping dance tuition for college tuition… which is basically like escaping prison only to get drafted into war.

The crew relives graduation weekend in Arizona where it was somehow 110 degrees at 8PM, causing Madi to repeatedly stand up during the ceremony just hoping for a breeze under the graduation robe. Nothing says higher education like heatstroke and swamp ass.

Things escalated quickly after the ceremony when the family managed to get kicked out of TWO college bars on back-to-back nights. Security politely informed them it was time to leave, proving once again that middle-aged dads should not attempt to party like frat boys with a Marriott rewards account.

Meanwhile, organizing 20 family members through graduation traffic was apparently harder than managing a kindergarten field trip, and Alex is already being warned that next year's graduation season will destroy whatever sanity he has left.

We also discover that Alex is officially the white trash representative of his fancy neighborhood. While everyone else is sipping wine on designer patio furniture, Alex is apparently out back building cinder block grills and roasting entire pigs in the driveway like a hillbilly king.

Cooper reveals he may actually be cursed when it comes to flying — his last three flights have been delayed a combined FIFTEEN HOURS. The good news? He's mastered the art of maximizing airport food vouchers and can now convert airline misery directly into Starbucks.

Mike nearly gets himself arrested in a driverless Waymo after yelling "THIS IS MY ROBOT CAR!" at four drunk college girls trying to open the door, while Madi watches in horror as he repeatedly touches things you are absolutely not supposed to touch in a self-driving vehicle.

The episode somehow gets even weirder when Madi explains that she handles annoying college boys by barking at them like an attack dog while carrying a taser and standing next to her 6'7" friend. Safe to say the boys at ASU never stood a chance.

And finally, Madi and Hailey recount surviving Portland's furry convention weekend, where a giant chicken entered their elevator and nearly sent Hailey into cardiac arrest. Nothing prepares you for locking eyes with a six-foot-tall human chicken in a hotel elevator at midnight.

Whiskey was consumed. Dignity was abandoned. And somewhere out there, four drunk girls are still wondering why a middle-aged man screamed at them about his robot car.

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.

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.

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. 🥃