Guido Reni, Drinking Bacchus (circa. 1623)
Here’s a new fun section to talk about not only absinthe, but any other drink you have besides the keyboard. Originally titled “What are you drinking tonight?” following a vote in the bar it was decided to omit the word tonight so as not to discriminate against the early morning/ lunchtime drinkers
Let’s hear about your favourite libation under the watchful eye of the cherub, Bacchus, who is the new moderator of this section.











2 responses so far ↓
scotty bones // November 15, 2007 at 3:55 am |
Last Saturday night we went to a party with a sick ass 10 piece afro-funk band. I went armed with a boda full of some killer HG called Trifecta, a pared down version created as a tribute to the wormwood, anise and fennel. No coloring. It louched as white as breast milk, mixed with water at 1:1 to save precious space in the boda. The band played through the night though the fairy was gone long before that.
Clint // December 13, 2007 at 3:30 pm |
Absinthe Zele`. Insane stuff. Drinking 3/4ths of a bottle with 1 other person is not good. Having tall glasses poured out without even remembering it happening is not good. I went on an insane rampage for a good 6 hrs. I’ve done a lot, and nothing in my life affected me like that.
Not able to speak correctly. Walking around looking for my wife (we were at a group campsite beach with 4 parties of 25 people or so) for what felt like YEARS. Not knowing where I was. Me & the other girl drinking were sitting in front of the campfire, about 3 feet apart. I yell, way too loudly for quiet hours: “How far away is the campsite???” [which we were sitting at]. She didn’t know.
We started around 6PM or so, but I don’t remember much until about 2AM or so, when I finally came down. And could drink a few beers. At first, they didn’t want to let me have them.
I managed to piss off a lot of friends, including new friends. But they have since realized I’m not normally an asshole
Then there was walking up to the wrong campsite, looking for my wife… checking out each and every person. Nope, not her. Circling 3 times. Checking each person 3 times. Finally being told “You’re at the wrong campsite, dude.” This happened again later.
Or when someone tricked me that my wife left the campsite to go downtown, and I was mad. “That bitch! I’m going to get revenge on her.” Someone else goaded me — “You’re going to get revenge on your sweet sweet wife”?
After a few seconds of intense contemplation, I say, “Yes!……[long pause]…. And it’s going to be sexy!” … At which point, I fell out of my chair, into the sand.
Later, I got stuck in an unlocked port-a-potty until someone else locked me out. It stank with an intense stinkiness, and I was trapped for at least 10 minutes. There is no knob; only a latch which you need to push the same direction that you need to push the door to open it. Yet I could not figure this out.
I also couldn’t speak well. I kept saying the wrong word. I would do this repeatedly, knowing full well the word coming out was not the word I wanted.
Apparently me and the other girl drinking had full conversations that were unintelligible to everyone else.
She went to sleep before I even came down. Except for when my wife had to wake her and her husband up to try to deal with me. Basically, once I made my wife cry, that was what it took to return me to reality. At which point my buzz was killed enough that I remained lucid for the rest of the evening.
Overall not a good experience, but I would definitely repeat it with a lot more care and precision…