Discourse on Alcohol

i call my last 11 years ‘the silent years’, i spent them writing the following, the full title of which i call Discourse on Alcohol for Conducting One’s Reason Well and for Seeking Truth in the Sciences.

alcohol is a magnificent thing you know. in all places at all times. for example, breakfast keggers, afternoon drinking sessions. port is good after dinner with a book. when the british started importing wine from oporta portugal because trading relations had gone sour with the french (something about a war i think) they put brandy in it to preserve it, or something, going across the pond. i put that discovery up there with the wheel. i heard that kant regularly got shit faced at the hotel bar and had to be carried home. alcohol is a thinking man’s past-time. it makes certain sorts of people good company who soberly aren’t. and i’d stick my dick in a fresh piece of roadkill with a proper amount of alcohol. i suppose most wouldn’t, but my standards are low to begin with. you know. take what you can get, and so on. most of the greatest minds of our generation and past ones recognized the value of a sloppy night out. still though, there are some miracles beer/wine/liquor can’t work. anomalies they are.

me personally, i like wine. they say shiraz is the new merlot. but anyways, wine is not without its faults. my experiences tell me wine is especially unforgiving on the headaches the next day. i bought a bottle of Casarsa (cab sauv) …i’m waiting for people to see me drinking it. i broke the bank for that bottle. $15 i think.
liquor is beautiful thing too. shots, magnificent. drinking games are the best kind of game. and a good opportunity to out man your company (in joking ofcourse).
there is nothing to be ashamed about drinking 5 nights a week. if you’re a student: its your job. for shame if you are not drinking when pressing obligations are none. philosphy at this school is a sham. you are a class act in my eyes if you can predrink for the predrink. if you can drink in only your own company, bravo. in my experience, the people who smirk at the latter one are superficial yes-men. it doesn’t surprise me at all they don’t like their own company. but enough about this.

the stories of drunkenness should be among the best stories a person carries with him/her. mine are legendary. i was spanked by a stripper once, butt naked except for a shirt. i wrestled a hulking israeli solder, pissed drunk. legendary. i’d like to hear different people’s tales. just last night i drank like a champ.

ps. anybody dip?
pure class. we don’t get apple in canada tho. and just recently got vanilla.

Getting sloshified is indeed a fine and glorious thing. I consider my four years in the Capital of American Sloshification, New Orleans, to have been a fine fine study of all things alcoholic .

I think the craziest thing that has thus far happened to me drunk has been walking fifteen miles across Mexico City, robbed by cops, and attacked by a pack of feral dogs - all because I couldn’t find the fucking taxi stand out on the avenida de Camarones. Man was that something that the Situationists would be proud of

chardonnay and merlot at room temperature.

A good read.
Are you really Canadian?

I drink very rarely now, after having watched a family member become an alcoholic, I can’t help but think I might have a predisposition for it as well, frankly it isn’t worth the risk. That said, when I was younger and drank in public 99% of the time I would simply sit back and observe the other people around me. However, there was this one time, at a Mardis Gras party, where I began to strip on the dance floor. Fortunately for me, I passed out before the old one eyed wonder could make his public debut.

Yes Virginia, Jello shooters are the devil.

Lol !! Very funny.

P.S. I don’t drink. I just like saying those names. I attended a French class, and my professor kept talking about merlot. I have tasted both at room temperature.

Perhaps, I should buy a bottle of chardonnay tomorrow.
A friend is coming over.

So long as it isn’t Jello shooters you have nothing to fear.

Jello shooters= end of innocence.

can’t go wrong with a chard.
me? i’m canadian.

Some incidents under the influence:

Got shit-faced on a camping trip, passed out. Woke up in the morning to find out that I slept on an ant pile (allergic to ants). Spent the rest of the trip looking like a GoodYear blimp. Seriously though, almost died.

Did about 20 keg stands at a get together we had at a friends apartment. Ended up sleeping with my sister’s friend and passing out in the bed. I soon wake up naked to about 10 people around the room laughing and showing me that they caught it all on camera. Luckily she was more than decent looking. :wink:

Got wayyyyy too shit-faced at a friends hotel room on spring break. I soon pass out on the floor and friends wake me up to go outside to walk on the beach. As soon as I sit up I feel my pants all wet. All my friends and the girls we were with start laughing. I look down… and yep. It happened, I leaked. I was so gone that I couldn’t care less and went back to sleep. :laughing:

That’s funny, as merlot’s not really a French wine

there are some good stories.
walking across mexico would be ----. you’ve always gotta pay them off with something. your watch. your shirt.
stripping on the dance floor would be embarrassing. alcohol clearly victimized you.
sleeping with your sisters friend on tape is pretty funny. atleast it wasn’t your sister. hopefully you got a copy.
and marie, your face gives you away as a party animal. you can’t fool me.
merlot is a pretty easy grape to work with, but the people who do the best things with it are the french.

I don’t think this is a fair comment. But I realize now that no matter what I say, it’s all going to be filtered through that picture.

Hi, by the way.

Argg, no more picture! Yes, Marie it is unfair that we visually oriented creatures (males) sometimes judge you visually appealing creatures (females) based on what we see. On a positive note, you have clearly demonstrated the dangers of the Empirical approach. Now, instead of a message board graced by a picture of your beauty, we are cursed as a message board that must function without it. instead of a smile, I get to see a marsupial!

that said, I do believe that Monooq meant nothing personal and was simply trying to flirt, which in a thread about intoxication, I am thinking might not be entirely uncommon.

Hermes… what are you wearing?

enough. both of you are ridiculous.
i’ve told guys they look like party animals.
you’re both ridiculous.

Who’re you callin’ marsupial? That was me when I was two months old. Okay, the hairy bottom—I’ve outgrown it now.

Anyway, my last post. That’s what happens when you get drunk with a friend and you crashed on the couch, and you wake up the following morning with your clothes still on. What went wrong?

I will put that picture back up, someday.

Okay. A cheap beringer chardonnay, $7.00, still can give you that buttery, toasted taste. I’m still dreaming about it right now.

Hello, again.

its not a bad story, but you can do better. it’ll just take some practice.

someday I will come up with a better one. I suppose a semester spent doing creative writing does not cut it. :stuck_out_tongue:

I know for a fact you have never hung out with writers obviously… drunkest damn people on Earth. Why do you think they write for a living? :smiley:

Oh, please elaborate GCT. I’m puzzled.

creative people sense the legitimacy behind the feeling of being totally lost in this mystery. without a map, because there is none. wandering in the void, and so on. (it’d sound better if i was better with words). up the river without a paddle maybe. and the sense of nonsense (thanks alan). and so, as far as i can tell, they like embracing all this and/by getting sense-less.
that its all a bunch of ridiculousness, whether it really is or not.
look at raoule duke (sp), or huxley (any objections?), and heaps of others.
or maybe its just because they need a break from the intense whatever-it-is that goes on behind their eyes.
in any event, its my opinion that getting sloshed is an intellectual affair. and they share that with deadbeats. one day i hope to be able to join them in getting sloshed. (not the deadbeats)
thats my take.

that is me over generalizing after going to a writers conference and watching all the professional writers get snockered.

You had said, in effect, that a semester spent doing creative writing (the class I assume) did not cut it (in the drinking department I assumed).

I was pointing out that the two are not necessarily exclusive. Every so often, when the fine people of my creative writing class get together socially, much drinking ensues.

Also, alcoholism was a stereotype (with some truth to it) of the writing profession back in the day.