AI Generated Content

Since we last spoke, we have completely emptied the kitchen, had it painted, and restored everything back to where it belongs.

Except for the bar. Bar stuff is still all over. Bottles are either in tote bags in the spare bedroom or lined up outside the back door.

My mouth wanted for a glass of single malt last night, but I had no idea where to find the bottle.

Which brings me to something I did for fun a few weeks ago. I asked ChatGPT if it could mimic my writing style. It claimed that it could, so I asked it to review a bottle of Ardbeg for me. Here's what I got:

"Sure! Here’s a review of Ardbeg, written in a conversational, humorous, and approachable style, mimicking The Skinny on Benny:"

Ardbeg: The Smoke Show You Didn’t Know You Needed

So, the other night, I found myself alone with a bottle of Ardbeg. I had a few quiet hours, a nice glass, and an open mind. I mean, I’ve heard things. Good things. Bold things. And let’s be real—sometimes you need a whisky that doesn’t mess around, and Ardbeg? Well, it’s like the guy at the bar who’s got a motorcycle parked outside, and he’ll make sure you know about it.

Right off the bat, you get a nose full of smoke. Not the kind of smoke you get from burning a burger on the grill—no, this is the good kind. Like you’re hanging out by a campfire at some remote Scottish beach, wind in your hair, sea salt in the air. There’s peat, of course, because it’s Ardbeg and that’s its thing. But it’s not overwhelming. It’s kind of like how you’re always aware of your quirky friend Steve, but he’s never too much, ya know?

First sip: bam! You taste that smoke, but it’s not slapping you around. It’s got some swagger, but there’s more going on here than just peat. There’s this lemony zest that pops up out of nowhere, just to remind you that life’s not all about campfires and motorcycles. It’s balanced by a touch of sweetness—vanilla, I think—like a secret treat hiding in a smoky cloud.

And let me tell you, the mouthfeel? Oh yeah, we’re talking velvety. It coats your tongue in the same way a well-buttered biscuit hugs your soul. There’s a richness to it, a depth that keeps you guessing. Each sip makes you lean in a little more, like Ardbeg’s telling you a story, but it’s taking its sweet time to get to the punchline.

Now, the finish. This is where Ardbeg takes a bow and lets the crowd applaud. It’s long and lingering, but not in a “that guy’s still talking?” way. It’s more like you’re reminiscing about a road trip from five years ago, and the details keep floating back. Smoke? Sure. But there’s this peppery kick at the end that makes you sit up a little straighter, maybe even reach for a second pour.

All in all, Ardbeg is the whisky equivalent of your cool-but-approachable friend. It’s not for the faint of heart, but it’s not trying to scare anyone off either. If you’re new to Islay whiskies, Ardbeg might be a little bold for a first date. But once you’re in the groove, it’ll feel like home—smoky, warm, and just a little bit wild.

So yeah, I’ll have another glass. And maybe I’ll even dust off my own leather jacket while I’m at it.

"How’s that for a lighthearted, friendly take in the style of The Skinny on Benny?"

I don't really find it to be very good. I think at this point I can hear the ChatGPT voice on anything it writes. Like this line:

>First sip: bam! You taste that smoke, but it’s not slapping you around.

I don't think I would ever try to review the taste of something without resorting to an adjective.

For the record, this whiskey is just delicious. It hits the tongue with a smooth whiskey front with just a hint of fruit without being at all sweet. Then, you get this rich, peaty flavor that really hits for me.

That's really all I can think to say about it in my own words.

There were a couple of episodes of Alex Jones's show (I know!) recently where he interviewed ChatGPT as if it were a real person. He spent a lot of time trying to get it to admit that its creators were "Globalists" intent on spreading left-wing disinformation.

It was eevery bit as stupid as it sounds, and had it not been so stupid, it would have merely been boring. Like as boring as the first 75% of this post.

So I hereby commit to not turning over any content to AI.

Speaking of which, this site turned 20 years old at the beginning of this year. I had a notion to go find and highlight old and funny content as a sort of anniversary year thing, but I was busy with work and with sailing a quarter way around the globe. But I'm considering launching something like that as a 21st anniversary thing in January. If you see it, great. If not, maybe for the 25th anniversary.