Face plant

A harrowing recap of the lost weekend
Those who know me best, know I have an almost inhuman capcity for drink. Many times over the years I've drunk so much that I scared other people. Last weekend was the first time I scared myself.

The groom-to-be on this particular Stag was complaining that the cocktails were not getting him drunk quite quickly enough. So I showed him how it was possible to drink two at the one time. (This enabled me to drink the entire menu in a little under 2 hours.) But J was not happy with the mixing, so as a last resort, I asked the barman if he could make a cocktail that wasn't on the menu.

The very kind barman, who I now suspect was Satan in disguise, readily agreed.

Way back in the day, I invented a cocktail. I made a batch of it once while on holiday with friends. It became famous because it contained only spirits, and a teaspoon of a secret ingrediant. And yet it had no taste. You could drink it like water. This was not recommended by me, though. My friends refused to heed my warnings, knocked back a glass each and got smashed. One friend, W, was cut short mid sentence and passed out. Two hours later he came too, and completed the sentence.

This was a seriously powerful cocktail.

The barman last weekend didn't have all the relevant ingrediants, so I improvised a few changes with what he had to hand, and brought one over the Stag. J liked it a lot. A few sips by others at the table, and eventually, everyone wanted one.

Except J. He wanted 3. And never one to back down from a challenge, so did I.

Now, let me put this in some perspective. Just 1 of these drinks had a friend up at 4:30, shaking and puking. 1 was more than enough for everyone else at the table.
So aside from drinking cocktails all night, and completing the menu, I had 3 of the most powerful cocktails I've ever encountered. As did J.

I don't know what's scarier. The fact that I didn't have a hangover the following morning (though I looked like I was three days dead and large amounts of my hair has gone grey) or just how easily I could have done myself some serious bodily harm. As it is, I've busted my leg pretty badly. I attempted to body charge H while walking back to our resting place, and he sidestepped me at the last second. My full speed leap into the air continued until I was abruptly stopped by the ground.

My nose was bashed, my left hand cut to bits and my knee is a horrible colour with lots of blood and very little skin.

As I lay there on the ground, reflecting what a sillything that was, my friends very kindly laughed a lot, before lifting me up off the ground.

Completely numb to the pain, I walked the rest of the way back, giving the old "you're the best, mate" speech to W. Which even though drunk, I meant. W is a prince among men and I feel privilaged to know him.

On the plus side, the cocktail proved so incredibly popular with folks, that the barman has agreed to add it to the menu. I named it after the Stag, so he now has a killer drink named after himself. That's a nice gift, don'tcha think? I recommended the bar do not list the ingrediants, and claim it's "confidential" ala Flaming Homer. That should intrigue people into trying it.

Welfare 3 : The Search for Employment

I had an interview today for a company that I would normally find horridly abhorrant. No, not as bad as faith healers and the like. This one is involved in a Lottery program. Now having studied mathematics, I know that Lottery's prey on those who can't do basic math. And while it's possible to make a fortune out of human stupidity, I think there's an ethical problem in doing so. People who insist on playing the lottery should be rounded up and put in homes, where they can receive care and attention and not be a danger to the progress of society.

Anyway, I hope I get the job. :)



posted by Manchild at 3:46 PM