This project was conceived when a lonely alcoholic, named John Heller, decided he had nothing left to live for, and that the purpose of his life would be to drink himself to a slow and steady death. After three failed suicide attempts and 4 false alarm hair gel emergencies, John’s the-rapist suggested he find a hobby. Perhaps this would give him the meaning he so desperately needed in life. He put an ad on craigslist.com’s casual encounters page, in hopes of finding fun hairy dudes who like to sing.
The second chapter in Whiskey’s Laments’ story was born when, Dan “Whiskey” McGrogg, guitar player extraordinaire, answered John’s ad. The two went Karaoking together, and while crooning a Frank Sinatra duet with Dan, John stated how he thought the lead singer of the Dropkick Murphy’s was really, really, hot. In a fit of envious rage, Dan stated, “I can make Irish punk rock twice as good as them.” John answered seductively, “Prove it.”
As fate would have it, a one legged drummer with a penchant for marijuana and Doritos, named Stumpy fister, had also responded to another ad John was running on casual encounters, looking for open minded amputees. John has an insatiable need to have disgusting sex. But I digress. After sending a few pics and exchanging phone numbers, the three got together for appletinis at Portland City Grill to discuss the project. Stumpy had only one condition for joining the band, which was if we ever used Jergens as lubrication that we would put in the microwave for at least 33 seconds. He hates it when cold lotion gets all up in his junk.
The lineup was finalized when a brony with a heart of gold named Chuck MacWagon ran into Dan at Brony-con 2012. At first they had nothing but contempt for each other, and spent hours debating which My Little Pony personified the virtues of friendship, love, and acceptance the most. Chuck would not hear Dan’s blasphemies, that Pinky Pie overshadowed Twilight Sparkle in this regard. They slapped each other like bitches, until their fedoras fell to the ground. In the midst of the struggle, John and said drummer, who were at the mini bar getting Bartle and James wine coolers, burst in, stating with passion and fire, “Stop, don’t you know friendship is magic”? Upon hearing this, the four embraced.
All was well as Whiskey’s Lament set out to conquer the world. That was until one day Stumpy disappeared and has yet to be found. Rumor has it that he went to Germany for a highly-experimental stem-cell limb regeneration procedure. Until he ‘walks’ back onto the scene, we may never know.
Luckily for all involved, about this time Johnny’s long lost brother, Drunky McFlasky, returned to Portland. After decades in Ireland, he was banished for the heinous crime of wasting whiskey, when he gave it to a pony in order to get it drunk and seduce it. He insisted it wasn’t a waste, but lost his case before the council of Jameson. Having lost everything, this outcast decided to go as low as he could go: by playing drums in Whiskey’s Lament.
Then, as prophetically told in Whiskey’s Lament song “The Wake of Whiskey McGrogg”, Dan was struck down in the prime of life by alcohol poisoning. After waking up next to a bottle of Jameson and downing it, going to Whiskey Fest 2014 and then playing a show with fans buying him shots between every song, he passed out at home on his back, never to awake. But he died doing what he loved best, playing music and drinking whiskey with a smile on his face.