Booze tales

I am back. I just wanted to wish one and all a fine weekend. I know that this is supposed to be the weekend of the extended Outlaw visits. It is dinner with the Outlaws, an aunt, uncle and cousins of the Wife tonight. Given that I do not have to see these people weekly, I can handle one evening. Besides, I like the cousins. In fact, one is moving to New York this week and that is the reason for the dinner. We will be going to that aunt and uncle's for a going away dinner party on Sunday. Yippee! I get to see them all again and hear the same shit.

Tomorrow the other aunt is having an open house as her daughter and grandchildren are in from New York. I do not think the husband is appearing. That is okay, because I will not be there. In fact, the Lad tried to beg off this one, but the Wife will not let him. Sucker!!

That is cool as I have stuff to do and will have the time to do it in the afternoon without family around. I think the major one will be trying to see if I can polish a bottle of gin, on my own, with nobody around. I was once good at doing that with Lemon Gin (the most vile substance known to man).

Here is the story. Back in high school, I looked old for my age. Two friends and myself would hit the local liquor store and buy a mickey of Lemon Gin. I do not know why we chose that but we did. We would also buy a bottle of soda water to mix with the Lemon Gin. It was then time for bar in the car. I would, being the responsible son of pharmacists, do the mixing (and usually the driving--this was 1983 when drinking and driving was not only not discouraged but actually encouraged, and we did-I am not proud, but it is reality). The three of us would polish off the 12oz of booze and off we would go. I am not quite sure where we would go, at least I do not remember (alcohol does not affect memory).

Anyway, one of the dudes went down to Florida over Christmas. It was just the two of us and Christmas Eve fell on a Friday. I figured we needed (there is a strange word there) enough for the long weekend. We bought a 26oz bottle and figured we were good. Son of a bitch! We polished that puppy up on the Friday evening. It was then I realized I had a problem. If I could equally share a large bottle of booze in an evening, not puke and wake up the next morning without a hangover, I was either some kind of superhuman or well on my way to liver disease and death. The jury is still out on that one, but I am here.

I got us home and did not hit a thing. Thankfully. I guess I grew up because I do not do shit like that or drink shit like that anymore. I am now thinking that there is nothing funny about that story, but then again I was young and foolish. Now I am just old with a bit of foolishness left. We'll see where that gets me....the morgue, perhaps. Okay, go have a weekend, remember me while you are enjoying yourselves and know that I will be back, hopefully with funny stories to tell. Ciao!