You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
Chicken Cock Whiskey.
Nothing makes me less thirsty than a whiskey named Chicken Cock.
It makes me think of beaks and extra skin under your chin.
Chicken Cock? That’s gotta be the worst product name ever.
Chicken Cock – It’s what would happen if Tampax and Preparation H had a child.
Why not Poop City Whiskey.
How about Colon Wipe Whiskey.
If you’re willing to go Chicken Cock, why not Donkey Dick Whiskey or Elephant Nut Whiskey or Squirrel Nuts Whiskey.
At what point is sabotaging your own product name just that, sabotage?
According to the official Cock web site: With roots tracing back to 1856, the original Chicken Cock became legendary during Prohibition as the preferred brand at many of the most famous speakeasies. Waiters served it in a tin can, opening it tableside and ceremoniously pulling out the bottle for their thirsty patrons. After almost a century long hiatus, we’re proud to announce…
We officially have the worst product name ever and we will begin laying off employees very soon.
The Cocks didn’t write that, I did.
My question is, were things so different in 1856?
Were the times so different that the name Chicken or Cock was a celebrated beverage?
Chicken Cock was 1st made it in Paris, Kentucky. That’s because nobody in Paris, France is that back woods country.
Making whiskey isn’t exactly like baking bread.
Making whiskey takes time and a great deal of financial capital.
You put in all this effort and money into a product and you settle on the name Chicken Cock?
From a marketing perspective, naming a Whiskey Chicken Cock is like building a boat and then drilling a whole in the hull.
Might as well sell your product at the bottom of the ocean.
Thanks for coming everyone. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.
I don’t even know what that means.
Why all the Life’s Crazy attention to C.C.W.?
I had never heard of Chicken Cock Whiskey till Friday night.
I enter the Bourbon Street lounge at Palazzo. Lights are swirling and the room is filled with the hallowed sounds of 1980’s rock and roll.
As I am scoping out the club, I am greeted by a cute sales girl who is wearing a Chicken Cock T-shirt.
“Would you like to try Chicken Cock” she says over the roar of a Twisted Sister anthem.
“Would I like to do what with, what did you say, Cock? “
I smile.
“Chicken Cock,” she shouts. “It’s a new whiskey.”
I see her T shirt with the big angry rooster with the top hat and a bad attitude.
I look to my boys and they chant.
“Try the cock. Try the cock.”
“Seriously? That’s the whiskey’s name?”
She smiles and pours me a shot from a bottle with a tough looking rooster wearing a top hat.
She hands it to me.
I toss it back. It’s got a sweet taste.
If I didn’t know the name of the whiskey, I would probably like this.
But as they say; what’s in a name?
Everything.
“Why not call it shot of Poop?” I say to my buddy beside me.
He is not listening. He is checking out a Bourbon Street performer who is now talking to the crowd from a beam 20 feet above the floor.
“Would you like a chicken Cock Shirt?” the sales girl screams.
“No thanks,” I say. “I have all the Cock I can handle at the moment,” I say with a chuckle.
She can’t hear me or she doesn’t care.
She hands me a white t shirt with the Chicken Cock logo.
She moves on to her next Cock marketing victim.
I am now holding a white T shirt with a big ugly rooster.
The last thing I want is a T-shirt in a club.
My friends put up their hands as if to say, don’t try and give that to me.
I go up to a girl who is dancing and hand it to her.
“Here. It’s a Chicken Cock. It’s a world original. It’s yours.”
She slows her dancing to a slight gyration. She opens the shirt, looks at the ballsy rooster with the top hat, and smiles.
She puts the large white T shirt on over her sun dress.
It’s a crazy look. I think she is drunk.
She smiles and resumes dancing with nobody in particular.
I leave the dance floor laughing about the Chicken Cock moment I just had.
I check the web site and the company takes it’s name seriously tongue in cheek.
Here are the most promising shots:
THE COCKSTAR! = Nice & Simple. Chicken Cock Cinnamon Whiskey straight. Why so popular? Name rocks and the fact our Cinnamon has 175% LESS SUGAR THAN FIREBALL sure does help the next day!
COCK & BALLS = We call this the shot for accounts weening themselves off the Canadian stuff! Equal parts Chicken Cock Cinnamon & Fireball. We prefer layering the Chicken Cock first and then the Fireball so you get the real American whiskey on the finish.
ROOT BEER FLOAT = Chicken Cock Root Beer & Whipped Vodka. Throw in a squirt of whipped cream if you’ve got it!
GAMECOCK = Chicken Cock Southern Spiced & Sweet Tea Vodka
COCKMEISTER = Equal parts Chicken Cock Root Beer & Jägermeister
THE JIM MORRISON = Equal parts Chicken Cock Root Beer, Jägermeister & Coke… may he REST IN PEACE!
THE ANGRY COCK or WOODCOCK = Chicken C0ck Cinnamon & Cider
I have my own ideas:
Bloody Stump. One part whiskey. one part severed hand.
Cock Rock and Roll: A shot of whiskey wrung out of a thong. You pull a fire alarm and then roll out of the building which may or may not be on fire.
Dr. Cock and Mr. Spock. A shot of the Cock at a Star Trek convention where you have to say Live Long and Prosper before you drink.
Chicken Cock sounds like something Asian porn stars order from a sushi restaurant that does massage therapy in the kitchen.
At the end of the night, the young lady I gave the T-shirt to, comes up to me, sweaty and covered with something red, presumably Chicken Cock. She smiles and pulls the shirt off and hands it back to me.
She simply says in a Canadian accent “Thanks for the shirt. I can’t wear this back home, EH?”
I laugh out loud.
I think Chicken Cock Whiskey has as much chance of succeeding as a gay wedding in a Chik Filet restaurant.
But you know what? If tonight is any indication, the name is sure a conversation starter.
The legend returns.
Life’s Crazy