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December 31, 2004


Black Russians. The drinks, we mean. Avoid them, unless you are a trained expert.

We speak from experience here. The experience was, back in the 1970s, when we lived in Pennsylvania, we woke up on New Year's Day lying on a lawn. And it was not our lawn. We're still not sure whose lawn it was.

So be advised. And if you have any cautionary New Year's Eve stories you would like to share with the group, feel free to put them in the comments section. Thank you.


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Scotch and grape pop. Don't do it. Ever.

White Russians, too. Russian Roulette. Russian salad dressing. Guys named Ivan. Beware.

Don't go to a bar in Illinois in the snow with your wife and brother and do tequila shots because you'll get the hiccups and then your nose will start bleeding.

So I've heard.

1980 or so. At a New Year's Eve party, I split a bottle of champagne with a guy. Then I split a big bottle of Cuervo Gold with him. I must have had more than he did, because he was pretty much okay the next day. My hangover lasted two full days, during which time I was absolutely unable to get out of bed except to crawl to the bathroom periodically.

Jack Daniels & El Toro Tequila, while fine individual representatives of the spirits family, do not mix well together.

/& they don't taste any better coming up than they did going down.

//& hurling into a dumpster in Cleveland's Flats District is no way to ring in a New Year.

///or so I've heard....

Just don't do tequila shots. Period. Ever. Or you'll wake up in a strange bed with a person of the opposite sex whose name you cannot remember.

Not that I know this from personal experience. It's just something I've heard...uh..yeah that's it, just a rumor.

I'm sure everyone has time for at least one serious caution: don't drink and drive.

Bad dates, a very good thing to avoid.

We, personally, recommend not getting alcohol poisoning. Bismarck usually gets one or two deaths every year from such. Don't drink more than 2 drinks per hour, and please stop after the first time you pass out.

Don't drink and get suicidal, esp. in Bismarck, or you'll see a 51 year old female Doctor in the AM, who is personally a Tee-totaler.

gecko-Is it true guys named Ivan can be terrible ?

Insomniac: I would say that if the guys full name is Ivan Tellalie then yes it can be terrible.

(and no I didn't miss YOUR joke either) LOL

If you consume an entire large pepperoni pizza and copious amounts of Mad Dog 20/20, and if you're riding shotgun in your friends car on I-71 and you need to hurl, tell you friend to pull over, or else the next morning his dad will find a bucket-load size smear of pizza remains frozen to the side of his car.

Question: If a friend passes out on the bathroom floor, with his head resting against the toilet's base, should you drag him out of the bathroom, or simply stand (or sit)with one foot on either side of his shoulders, and take polaroids to commemorate the event?

Zoodle, that can still be better than waking up in a bed with a person of the opposite sex, a person of the same sex, a person of indeterminate sex and a sheep. This once happened to someone who drank a bottle of sake by herself and had to write an anthropology exam the next day.

Grand Marnier and Coca-cola - delicious individually but very dangerous when mixed - it tstes so good that you forget it's alcohol!!

i stepped over you then was pulled over. when i was asked for my id i yanked my wallet from my back pocket and it landed in the northbound lanes. i was headed southbound and the officer didn't suspect a thing. i dropped my buddy off and sideswiped a parked vw. kept truckin until the 3rd. really man i found my 12 inch bong stuffed between the seat cushion of my mom's nova on washington's birthday. most years i carry a 21 inch special alloy baton to fend off black russians. especially if i'm traveling anyware near red square or the kenyan highlands. this year i'm going to beat regis with a tie-dyed stick and take his women. well, i'll take the real ones. your phone is ringing dave. gotta go. keep your feet dry and you pecker hard. hippy new year bro.

If you end up drunk and suicidal in the Midwest, you might meet a 62 year old, overweight RN who will reorient you to reality pretty quickly.
Not that I know any one like that!!

Well, for what NOT to do, I'm reminded of a lyric from the Beat Farmers' song "Lost Weekend":

I wish somebody'd tell me
Just who and what I did
Why's this ring on my finger,
and who's that screaming kid?

1. Don't let your husband mix his drinks (ie gin + beer + tequila + champagne) and then alcoholically berate you in front of the myriad transvestites at the Boystown IHOP at 4 am. One of you is likely to puke on the sofa to which he's banished. The other one will have to smell it.

2. Try very hard not to step off a curb onto busy Halsted St. after four hours of drinking games involving mixed shots. Even that burrito you just ate in a drunken stupor won't protect you from psycho cabbies.

3. Don't go to a hotel room with a stranger, unless he is Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp (or, ideally, both of them at the same time).

4. Don't drink if you have small children. No matter how much you pray, they will jump on your stomach and head at 5 am, demanding attention. Just one diaper change could cause you to turn the tables on the baby and puke on him for once.

5. Jagermeister. Nobody should drink that sh*t.

6. I'm with Karlotta -- please don't drink and drive, and have a safe and happy new year. 2005 would not be the same without the Barry Bloglits.

Repeatedly drinking straight from a (plastic) gallon bottle of vodka is a sure way to:
a) pass out
b) cause you to throw up
c) make you wet your pants
d) make people take pictures of you or
e) all of the above.

I've heard that E might be the correct answer...

I was going to say don't get hammered then streak past the girl's dorms, but nah. That was a RIOT! Let's all do that tonight!

carlos & charlies, cozumel, 12/31/02; beer bong, followed by tequila shots; followed by asleep on floor of restaurant; followed by being carried out of restaurant by wife and children (one of whom, i learned later, purchased pot from an authentic mexican drug dealer); followed by throwing up out of the window of the cab on the way back to the cruise ship; followed by crashing through the customs gate and running uncontrollably toward the ship (while wife and kids cringe and customs guys laugh, or so i'm told); followed by spending the next day and half of the cruise between the bed and the toilet (not in that order).

Make that Auld Lang Syne I butchered.

Friends don't let friends sing karaoke.

OH! And I suppose WHITE Russians are OK!!!


Real Rooskies celebrate Novi Yearski a week late, with multiple TUMBLERS of straight PEPPAR vodka: The kind that's full of hot pepper. ((Adds a WHOLE new dimension to puking... and then, the next day, komrad... ) Nazdrovya, Baby!

I have to disagree: Jägermeister totally rules!
As long as you are an responsible adult who knows his/her borderlines.

Good luck, anyway.

Don't sit down unless you are sure you didn't leave your glass on the chair.
True story, might have been 4th of July.

One word: Ouzo
Two Words: BAD IDEA.

Really bad.

Mudstuffin: definitely b. Though you can then drag him out if you're feeling nice, or else just pee around him.

Definitely don't take the edge off before flying by having a few drinks, then puking all over your friend's bathroom (except the toilet, which you miss) and spend an hour or so lying with your face pressed to the side of the bowl groaning and refuse to leave the bathroom so anyone who has to use it has to knock on the next door neighbor's door.

Oh, and Southern Comfort. 'Nuff said.

Christobol, LOL on the vomit is minty fresh.

White Russians = no.

After a night of drinking white russians, I woke up the following morning hell bent on cleaning the gutters.

As I was walking across my roof, it occurred to me I was still drunk and I should get the heck down off the roof.

Making the transition from the roof to the ladder seemed to be more than I could handle. I sat on the roof for awhile, contemplating my options. Neighbors waved at me. I eventually made it down and haven't had a white russian since.

'course, it could be the quantity, but they taste so good, I can't drink just one...or two....or, apparently, three....

sly, how did you sneak your comment before the last three posts that were already there? You definitely are my kind of partier!

Lilly: Scotch and grape pop?.

Just the thought of the combo is enough to make me sick.

I'll be too busy playing tonight for all the drunks to become one myself..I think..And crap,all of them will be coming up to the stage to request a song or asking to sit in all the while spilling thier drinks and saliva without realizing it..Then I get to humiliate them to thier faces in front of thier friends and a couple hundred strangers without them noticing until the next day if at all! Happy New Year!

Sean, sounds like fun! It's definitely a tossup for me between getting drunk and stupid and having you humiliate me in front of my friends and going streaking with mudstuffin, but I think I'll have to go with the latter. Maybe we can stop by and hear you later, OK?

I will say, sadly, that there is such a thing as too much Jack Daniels. And stay away from JD and 7up. A very dangerous combination designed to make you forget the last 2 or 3 days of your life.

If you go to a place with a live band, MAKE SURE THEY KNOW "AULD LANG SYNE." Nothing says "Happy New Year" like having the lead singer plop in a cassette tape at midnight. True story. Country band. Wrong country, apparently.

And, folks, no matter how you celebrate the end of 2004, please have a wonderful 2005!

My comment to sly came after the last three posts too! Bartender, I've had enough!

OK, that probably should have read "pop in a cassette." Plopping is more commonly done in bed, or a really big bowl of jello.

jagermeister is revolting. tequila rules :) reposado'll put you right to sleep... the sleep of gods and innocent babes.

OK, cool. I'd like to stay and do tequilla shots with judi tonight. Set up the salt bowl and lemon wedges. No matter what at least I won't have to look any of you in the eyes tomorrow.

Liquid Cocaine:

1/2oz Jagermiester
1/2oz Goldschlager

Drink. A warm feeling of euphoria consumes your stomach. Have a few more. Everything is fine, your soul is warmed by humanity. Have a few more, your shoes are warmed by your own vomit.

Happy New Years everyone!

I can't decipher anything
put me where you want me
give me rubber blankets

1978, Nachos + Seagrem's 7 + Red cream soda....bbaaaad idea....nasty stains...looked like someone blew up a large mammal in the bathroom....

I stopped doing tequila after my best friend's bachelor party.

I also had to stop shetland pony bowling, but that was more of a judge's order than a healthy lifestyle choice thingy.

But, for Judi - anything. Bring on the tequila and somebody setup the ponies!

Oh yes,Jeff,fun will be had by all..And we do play Auld Lang Syne at midnight..I do a spazzed out wah wah intro ala' Hendrix's Star Spangled Banner,then into the song..My girlfriend will be there and she made me promise her we would have sex (together)as the clock strikes twelve so it could be a situation..

"blew up a large mammal" - excellent

Scotch and grape pop


you were oh-so-close to the famed "Purple Cow" (vodka + grape kool-aid)...

The "Don't Do It. Ever." rule applies here, too...

Oh, my lord, Goldschlager. I knew I forgot something for good reason. Umm, gold-plated puke!

hmm, i read that as "threw up a large mammal" which would also be entertaining.

"chip dip" huh? Is that like the "hair gel" from something about Mary?

Ah yes, the go yonder look... I know it well.

Actually, I'll be hanging out at my house with my wife and another couple. Although I do have plenty of good booze in the house, the wildest we're likely to get tonight will be yelling "Yahtzee!" a little too loud.

Any more than two drinks and I start to get the polar opposite of the "come hither" look from my wife.

I probably won't barf, but I will get chip dip on my shirt.

Nifty! (That's going to be the hot slang of 2005) Sean and I time traveled. I brought back a piece of future pizza to prove it. Well, I ate it, but you have to believe me, ok?

If I didn't have puke breath, I'd kiss you, eh.

How many of you can work that great movie line into your evening's festivities?

Christobol, you're killing me here.

I forgot another one:
Avoid consuming mass quantities of home-brewed honey beer, topped off by accepting a bet to drink a half bottle of Jack Daniels. Especially if you have to run the crime desk the following day while still drunk. I vaguely remember throwing up in the women's restroom (thank G-d I made it there), and coming out to applause from the pasteup staff.

Tomorrow, I will probably add:
Don't take your kids to the "Early New Year's Eve" at Scoozi where you think they'll have fun making their own pizzas while you and beloved spouse stare into each other's eyes over a plate of pasta and bottle of wine. The little one will puke, the older one will whine, and the kids will be a pain, too.

I'm quite sure I'll be fast asleep in front of the TIVO menu by 10:30 pm, but the kids will be partying hard.

Absinthe - prepared the 'traditional' way. It sounded like a good idea at the time. In truth, any recipe that includes sugar cubes, fire and 180 proof alcohol should not be attempted by anyone with limited coordination due to inner ear disorders or 'otherwise'.

We'll be having a "500" tournament, with the kids running around and enjoying the lack of a bed time.

Perhaps Garrison Keillor will stop by to show me that he's had the restraining order renewed. That would be fun.

OK, I'll bite.

20 shots of Southern Comfort.

One entire pot of Swedish Meatballs.

One bottle of no-name champaign.

One whole Meat Lovers pizza.

One Mind Eraser.

Many, many doritos.


It's very hard to clean up when it's all mixed together on your pillow.

Oh yeah, Cuervo Gold off Uma Thurman's navel... Skyy Vodka off the small of Sandra Bullock's back...

Wait, were we sharing warnings or really really good ideas? I get confused.

1978, University of Massachusetts stadium. The Grateful Dead (ugh) head the bill with Patti Smith playing first (yay), and is she ever spectacular ... Enthusiasm and the resulting body warmth tend to make gulping the Bacardi 151 and pineapple juice from the gallon jug seem like a refreshing idea ... How vague and aimless the Dead sound now - no, that's their usual - wait, how come it's three hours later and they're still riffing on the same song - no, that's their usual - hey, why is it dark out?

"Fell asleep? Asleep?? Hah! Us professionals call it passing out." After mastering the art of gauging one's liquor, all bets are off with 151 and pineapple. Lesson learned (pretty much). But my Deadhead friends still never forgave me for missing out on their favorite band ...

Lest we forget (we've seen this before): http://www.britishbooze.org.uk/forum/hos.php

Ooh, ooh! If we're doing body shots I will send out for Hugh and Johnny right away! Also Alex McArthur, but that's just a personal thing (a Desperado always makes me crazy).

If you happen to be in the kitchen at a house party and decide Tequila shots are a good idea, and if the party crowd should happen to gravitate towards your location, and if it becomes necessary to get another bottle of Tequila three, four, or five times (who can remember at that point); remember that you were there for the first bottle and most of the others trickled in as subsequent bottles were opened and that it's ok not to keep up with the crowd... BTW, the next five years during which the smell of Tequila makes you want to puke is normal.

Do you want to know what I am actually doing? I let my daughter plan the festivities and so I will be drinking Vanilla Coke (straight), eating Cheetoes and watching all 3 'Harry Potter' movies. Bet none of you can top that! Neener!

while wine may seem friendlier and more harmless than hard liquor, it's not. try to stop after the first two or three bottles, especially if you're the only one drinking wine.

triple the previous warning when there's port involved.

activated charcoal tastes awful.

Don't ever let your Mother shoot your new 20/20 gauge shotbun that you received for Christmas from you Dad, on New Year's Eve, after she had one too many martinis. She shot out the street light across the street from our house. My father took back the gun on my birthday (Jan. 16th) several weeks later. WTH, I was back in college anyway by then. (He only gave me the gun because he won it in a 'crap game.')

Dear Dave,

At least you didn't end up waking up mowing someone's lawn, someone who you didn't know. Actually, I had the opposite happen to me after drinking too many Pabst Blue Ribbons one New Years Eve. I woke up in my trailer and someone was mowing my lawn, someone I didn't know.

Connie L.

Red wine killed me once so now I am very careful to stop after 2 bottles.

SHOTBUN? My computer is at it again. My mother has sided with Aunt Lockie and now she is trying to sabotage my serious writing endeavors.
*will I ever be totally free?*

Gin and grape Kool-aid is not dangerous, it's just undrinkable, but once in desperation...

Tonight will be a customery few beers at home and watching the Golden Anniversary Edition of Casablanca.

I don't know how it is where you are but in Atlanta tonight the cops will stop everybody and let them prove they haven't had anything to drink. Roadblocks all over.

Be safe and live to blog again.

Peri: Neener.

I swear, I just spit out my Creamy Chicken Cup 'O Soup.

That's funny - it was a Box 'O Bordeaux in my case. And I didn't exactly spit. It IS possible to projectile vomit yourself to death. The ressurection is also very painful.

Oh, black russians hate me with a fire unmatched by any other. I was underaged and with my boyfriend at Paradise Island in Florida. Some how (it could have been the short skirt and garter belts) I was able to sneak into an underaged club even though I had big black Xs on my hands (to indicated my shame of being underaged). Black Russians were my drink of choice and the boy kept bringing them to me, with the warning that I should drink them fast so I wouldn't be caught. I vaguly remember nearly passing out on a table and giving a concerned person the thumbs up when they asked if I was OK. Then I remember puking all over my boyfriend's car. I really really hurt the next day.

It's in everyone's best interest to avoid playing the song "Tequila Sheila" by Bobby Bare about fifty-six thousand times consecutively in a party atmosphere, particularly if every time you get to the chorus of "Pour me another tequila, Sheila," you consume one (or more--why by stingy?) shot of the drink in question.

I recommend avoiding this because sooner or later the owner of the house will figure out that you've been putting cigarette butts and bottle caps in the exotic fish tank all night. Since fish are not above eating cigarette butts time and again, three of them will die.

Also, you'll break a leg off the piano bench and, to cover your tracks, hide the leg inside the piano itself.

Boonesfarm.... it is THE "PreGame" drink.
3 steps to a good time:
Step 1)
You get 5 bottles for $10. go to the nearest Albertsons with your closest friends, get 5 each and then Drink all 5 (cuz they dont really count, i mean its boones!) while talking shit to those who chose to not drink all 5 in the 1st hour.
Step 2)
Bust out the Jose, and try to prove that not only can you kill all the Boones first, but that you are "The Champ" with any challenge and show off by taking shots not only at your turn but between every other players turn.
Step 3)
Go to the bathroom puke ON PURPOSE to "Get it all out" rinse mouth out and return for another round.
By midnight you'll be drinking Mr. Boston Vodka straight out of the plastic gallon, then stumbling aroung with someone else's 40 for the rest of the night while repeating to everyone "Who's tha Champ? Who? Oh yeah, its Me, I'm the Champ!"
In the morning you will wake up in a parking lot with no shoes, and no recollection. You will have to watch all this on someones video camera and they will refuse to give you the tape.
But all in all the loss of shoes is well worth it!

Dave - you may want to note that all the Bush appointees and staffers who "left office in order to spend more time with their families" are exected to return in a few months in order to get away from their families.

Bad combo per JU:

Grape juice
Grain alcohol
White carpet
Drunk girl

Please have the sense not to drive if you're drinking tonight! Bring some cash for a cab and pick your car up again in the morning.

Don't drink and smooch.
One night at an outdoor New Year's festival, when the ball dropped, everyone turned to the person next to them and started kissing. That's how I ended up with "Dan". The affair lasted 4 months until I got a good look at him in daylight.
Be warned.

Pot. Loud renaissance music (and loud renaissance musicians). Vodka. Guinness stout. Chocolate chip cookies.

Could these motivate you to play Auld Lang Syne on a rauschpfeiff, with tambourine obbligato? No? Good.

It might not be enough to kill you, but you might wish it would've, maybe, like the next day, and the day after that. I've heard tell.

Here's to the latter days of warm soup and quiet companions!

Happy New Year, y'all!

WHatever you do DO NOT drink 3 bottles of white wine and then lock yourself in the bathroom make drunken phone calls to ex boyfriends and then fall asleep....911 does not look well upon these type of emergencies....or so I've heard...

Kudos to everyone who has posted here - I am loving all these stories - some of them bring back some warm (and not so) memories!!

Please keep them coming - (the stories, that is)

When I was little I loved my parents parties. The women wore taffeta dresses with big skirts and lots of jewelry. We were allowed to stroke the fur coats they placed on my parents bed. Their perfume was divine. My mother wore a gorgeous black velvet number that I hoped I would get to wear some day, too. We nibbled potato chips with clam dip, sipped ginger ale and watched the party from the stairs above. We were allowed stay up to see Guy Lombardo and the ball dropping. I couldn't wait to grow up so I could go to parties like that!

Sad to say, by the time I grew up nobody bothered to dress up, fur was definitely out, and that black velvet number of my mother's never came close to fitting. Just chug as much liquor as possible and pass out in the corner...

As Peggy Lee would say, is that all there is???

Ah. These heart-warming tales remind me *exactly* why I no longer drink alcohol.

Yeah, I miss it sometimes. A terrific wine with a wonderful meal would be nice.

On the other hand, I haven't had a hangover for seven-and-a-half years! (So there IS an upside!)

So many great stories, though. Waking up in my car one morning in a parking lot somewhere in NC . . . when I should have been at work at the newspaper.

Waking up in a car one early morning in Key West. Make that BEING awakened in someone ELSE'S car. (She was NOT amused.)

Losing my keys and being propped against the front door to my parent's house in MA while my "friends" rang the bell and left me to fend for myself.

Being pulled over by a Fort Lauderdale police officer in front of MY house. Getting yelled at and then asking if I can just go inside.

I got a million of 'em.

(Please. If you can handle it, drink all you want. Just don't drive. -signed- The Voice of Experience)

I caution you all to avoid adopting our family tradition: the frying of the wings. Or if you do adopt it, do not put the cardboard container of Crisco over a gas flame to prepare the oil for frying.

How to create a military policy.
Attend at toga party.
Drink way to much of a brain remover call Purple Jesus.
Wake up the next morning unable to move because you are still wearing your toga.
And laying on your toga and spooning with you? Your wife on one side and on the other side some guy that looks like the Marlboro Man.

My experience with Southern Comfort consisted of hugging the porcelan god from about 1AM to 5AM, spent the remainder of that day and the next in bed, wishing God would come and take me. If I even smell it, some 25 years later, my stomach turns.

Beer (lots of beer) and really big pipe rockets,

New Years Eve, 1974. After *several* beers, we decided to launch some fireworks at midnight. Since it was cold, we also decided to just launch them out the front door.

I placed a inch diameter, twelve inch long pipe rocket into a paper towel tube, held it up (pointed out the front door) and lit the fuse. When it ignited, so did my eyebrows, mustache and shirt.

I just remember thinking to myself, "Man, that looked like a Saturn 5 moon shot!" and then my friends put out the fire and told me to not light anymore fireworks. They also suggested that maybe I should have another beer.

And by the way, the rocket went up quite a way and exploded at exactly midnight, thus ringing in the New Year with a bang.

Happy New Year to all.

I remember me and a buddy being tucked under the arms of another buddy and being tossed on a bed and told to stay there.

When I was little I loved my parents parties. The women wore taffeta dresses with big skirts and lots of jewelry. We were allowed to stroke the fur coats they placed on my parents bed. Their perfume was divine. My mother wore a gorgeous black velvet number that I hoped I would get to wear some day, too.

Oh Sandy, that description brought back exactly the same memory - wow! And wasn't stroking th e fur coats on the bed just the best thing in the world when you were little!! And the taffeta made such a great noise when the ladies walked!

Thanks for awakening that for me!

Alternative Atlanta New Year's Eve - If you can't make it downtown to see the Big Peach drop, at a local bar yuo can watch the Giant Chicken Nugget slide down a rake handle into a kiddy pool of "honey mustard appearing liquid".

Maybe we could get the girls to wrestle in it.

Me, I just liked hiding under the fur coats.

Good times!

There was one New Years Eve I can't remember. I'll never forget the sickening sweet but rotting stench of Southern Comfort on my semi-friend Ivan's breath New Years Morning. But why we were huddled in an old bus worming through the icy hills of Pittsburgh?

I think I've just written the first three sentences of my Great American Novel. More inspirational Southern Comfort, please.

1981.. cheap Vodka and grape kool-aid.
A nasty combination but i was a kid in my first apartment, and money was scarce. At midnight I got the brilliant idea to light a pack of firecrackers. However, my vodka induced brain lacked the foresight to open the window before lighting the wick. The entire pack blew up as I juggled it between my hands. Miraculously, I ended up with no injuries, except the dreaded purple cow hangover.

I don't recall a painful New Years Eve, or morning after, but I remember some friends having them. One involved MD 20/20 - I think that hangover lasted a week. Another tried to "get on the outside of" an entire pint of 151 - he was not successful, and we had to drag him out of the bathroom door he collapsed in so others could use it.

(Not that I didn't have occasions of my own when I needed a "hair of the dog" the next day.)

If you go to Mexico on vacation in 1986, and bring back 3 bottles of $5 Tequila to your college boyfriend in New Orleans, do NOT spend the evening making Margaritas in his apartment with two of the three bottles of Tequila, when it is only the two of you drinking them. Otherwise you will be vomiting for 24 hours, and begging to be shot in the head for the next 72 hours when you wake up, and miss two days of classes, and get WAY behind in your Greek translation. Plus the third bottle of Tequila makes a painfully loud noise when you hurl it out the window towards the trash cans.
Nope, I sure won't do THAT again.
- Guin

Stuf not to mix:

Bailey's Irish Cream and pureed chicken
Jose Cuervo and cream of mushroom soup
Stoli, sheep's bladder pie, and a puppy
Pabst Blue Ribbon, French Onion Dip, your best friend's mom.

I'm sure there are others.

Jeff and Eleanor: I think all 3 of us had the same childhood. :-) Mine was in suburban Chicago. My parents weren't alcoholics, though. My dad had his gin on the rocks every night after he got home from the office, but only one. My mother never drank much--just pills. And all doctor-prescribed, which makes it OK, right? Yeah, right...

Christobol, you just reminded me of an early drinking event!

Pabst Blue Ribbon Ale was about $4.00 a case. We would buy a couple of cases and go do "Pabst Smears".

God, I loved my childhood. I wish I still had the stamina....

Four mudslides in a row, served from a soup bowl. "Waking up" in an outdoor hot tub with four girls in their underwear and one very very happy naked guy. Singing, for a still unknown reason, "American Pie" by Don McClean, a song I hate when I'm sober. And, upon being shown the pictures the next morning, vowing to become a nun. Or at least, a drunk with better taste in hot tub partners.

And let me add, Kilmeny and everybody, how much I loved your stories. Isn't it interesting how many times when we make fools of ourselves with drink our faithful friends are standing by... cameras at the ready to record it for posterity. Now that's friendship.

Flashback to the early 80's and my best friend and I consuming several Slow Comfortable Screws (Sloe gin, Southern Comfort and orange juice), a delicious but deadly mixture. Next day, my Mom wondered why I didn't want to eat the big New Year's brunch she had prepared.

Sandy, just kidding (or exaggerating) on the "alcoholic" comment. My mother never drank that much, and after she quit saw it as her mission to convince the rest of the world that my father was an alcoholic. That could drive anyone to drink. Being 3,000 miles away made it hard to monitor his drinking, but I never saw him drunk. Just belligerent. But no more so when drinking than when sober. But then, after living with my mother for 58 years (next month) it's amazing he has his sanity.

What burns me, Jeff, is that they had way more to drink then I did, but still had the motor skills to operate the damn camera. And a xerox machine.

Philippe: Are you by any chance Philippe Boets, my petanque-and-poker buddy?
Posted by: Dave on December 31, 2004 03:15 PM

Yes, that's me.
Meanwhile, it is 1:30 AM - Jan 1, 2005 - in France.
We ate like kings. The mere list of ingredients would consume the bandwidth of this blog.
The kids are in bed.
But I'll have 'one for the road' - to my bed, that is - to the health of all bloggers and -ettes. Negrita rum from Martinique + lots of lime juice + Classic Coke.
Bonne année à tous et à toutes!

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