Sunday, October 05, 2014

Alcohol and Related Indignities

I coulda titled this piece "The Sunday Re-Run" but didn't.  But the fact remains: this IS a re-run.  Onward and upward...


My Buddy Ed In Florida sends along the following:

Alcohol Warnings

Due to increasing products liability litigation, beer manufacturers have accepted the FDA's suggestion that the following warning labels be placed immediately on all beer containers:

*WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may make you think you are whispering when you are not.

*WARNING: Consumption of alcohol is a major factor in dancing like an asshole.

*WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may cause you to tell the same boring story over and over again until your friends want to SMASH YOUR HEAD IN.

WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may cause you to thay shings like thish.

*WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may lead you to believe that ex-lovers are really dying for you to telephone them at four in the morning.

**WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may leave you wondering what the hell happened to your pants.

*WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may make you think you can logically converse with other members of the opposite sex without spitting.

WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may make you think you have mystical Kung Fu powers.

**WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may cause you to roll over in the morning and see something really scary (whose species and or name you can't remember).

WARNING: Consumption of alcohol is the leading cause of inexplicable rug burns on the forehead.

*WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may create the illusion that you are tougher, smarter and more handsome than some really, really big guy named FRANZ.

*WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may lead you to believe you are invisible.

*WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may lead you to think people are laughing WITH you.

**WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may cause an influx in the time-space continuum, whereby small (and sometimes large) gaps of time may seem to literally disappear.

WARNING: Consumption of alcohol may actually CAUSE pregnancy.
The asterisked items indicate tee shirts I acquired in my ill-spent youth.  

The double asterisked items concern themselves with a war story I've never told... the Reader's Digest version of which involved me waking up next to a totally bald woman (albeit one with a gray-haired wig askew on her bald pate) who had to be at least 70 years of age and who swore up and down that we had had intimate knowledge of each other not four or five hours ago (as best as I can determine: she did NOT speak English) and wanted to repeat the experience.  I declined her offer as gently as possible, and to this very day I do NOT believe I was THAT drunk.  Some things are beyond the pale and that was one such.  

To make matters worse I had been set up with my new-found geriatric companion in a fitting act of retribution by my so-called buddy, who also stole my clothes and left me buck-nekkid in this harridan's bed.  And why did my buddy set me up?  Well... basically it's because his lady friend and I got incredibly drunk together and argued about politics until the wee small hours (or until I passed out, whichever came first, or both) when she should have been doing something more enjoyable with my buddy.  My bud did NOT take kindly to that and I kinda-sorta ruined his night.  Ergo, retribution.

Back to the story...   I managed to wrap myself in a sheet and searched the premises for my clothes... which involved going from room to room in an establishment where that sorta thang isn't normally done, most especially EARLY in the morning... but I duly discovered where my clothes had been hidden after about 20 minutes of frantic searching... assisted by my semi-clothed elderly lady friend.  I then proceeded to get dressed and got the Hell out o' Dodge in that early morning hour and went searching for a restaurant with ANY sort o' greasy breakfast and a couple o' few aspirin.  Or six of same, because I was sufferin' from God's Own Retribution of a hangover, one of my Top Ten Hangovers of All Time.  I stumbled into a western-style hotel a few blocks from whence I came, and was VERY pleased to find their restaurant was not only open but featured "American Breakfast."  So we ordered about a half gallon of coffee, breakfast, that much needed aspirin, and soon the world was MUCH brighter.  As for the "western-style hotel" bit, all this happened in a country not my own, I should add.  So there's that.

All o' which reminds me of a lil sumthin' I post and re-post from time to time, to wit:
More on drunkenness from an old post I put up back in March of '06:
Apropos of nothing, as is my wont, of late. Quite some time ago I read Dan Jenkins’ novel “Baja Oklahoma,” which was a good tale…funny, creative and full of little folk gems. One of those gems impressed me SO much I took the trouble to transcribe the list and pin it to the wall above my desk. This, of course, was in the way-way-back. But…it’s a very relevant piece of work. Here, for your illumination/edification, are Dan Jenkins’ “Ten Stages of Drunkenness:”
1. Witty and Charming
2. Rich and Powerful
3. Benevolent
4. Clairvoyant
5. Fuck Dinner
6. Patriotic
7. Crank up the Enola Gay
8. Witty and Charming, Part II
9. Invisible
10. Bulletproof
I don’t believe I’ve ever made it to “Bulletproof.” Evidence of that fact is: I’m still alive. I have, however, been “Witty and Charming, Part II” on a few occasions and “Invisible” once or twice. The most common state I arrived at was Number Four and perhaps Five…achieved nearly every Friday night whilst I was living in SFO. Ah, nostalgia!
Truer words were never written or spoken. I usually only get to Stage Three these days. But Stage Five is not unknown...
When Stage Five happens these days (which is rarely, actually) I usually take a nap and then have a late dinner.  Coz dinner is important, Gentle Reader. 
The comments to the original post are (somewhat) interesting, in that the guy who hid my clothes weighed in.  That was one helluva night, Gentle Reader.


  1. Having hung out with coroners and forensic pathologists, I am reminded that so many stories seem to start with the words, "alcohol was involved."

    1. Having hung out with coroners and forensic pathologists....

      I'd wager that nearly 100% of those stories... where coroners and pathologists are involved... ended badly, too.

  2. My life seems to have been pretty tame...

    ...until I start reminiscing with others who've had long and varied drinking careers.
    Then I start to remember.

    I am reminded of a favorite line from long ago, "Let's get drunk and be somebody."

    1. I never heard that line before, Skip, and I don't think your life has been all that tame, either.

  3. My favorite part of this is that you tried to remain a gentleman ("I declined her offer as gently as possible").

    I stated (in the 'original comments') that I reached bulletproof a few times. That I'm sitting here with all of my senses and the ability to type coherently is still unfathomable to me. I like to think it's because God has some sort of grand plan for me to do something amazing enough to make up for all of the assholery I committed during those times, but I'm not entirely sure that's even possible.

    1. Thanks again for the kind words, Jim. I can sorta relate to your "assholery" days, too... and am thankful (a) I never got caught and (b) survived those times semi-intact.

  4. I went the long way around but never ever thought I could play the piano.

    1. We all managed to muddle through, didn't we? Some more so than others.

  5. Onward and upward, Last Battle in Narnia. I was going to write more but I can be trite at my place.

  6. What happens in West Pac.............................Stays in West Pac.
    I can neither confirm nor deny.....................................................

    1. I hear ya. I have a few tales that will only be told and re-told in a very, very small circle o' friends.


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