If beer is proof God loves us and wants us to be happy, then the Zaca Recovery Patch is proof he doesn’t want us to be hung over in church.

Full Disclosure: I was not sent these buy the folks over at ZacaLife.com. Nope. I got a free sample when I got my Freedom Flask in the mail (More on the Freedom Flask later). It was a pack of four patches which worked so well, I had to order more – and pay for them – just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.

Now if you’ve been a regular reader of this blog then you know Nate and I have tried our fair share of lotions, potions, pills and home-grown hangover cures. To be quite honest, most of the commercial hangover remedies that we test are souped up vitamins, which do work because of basic biology. If you replace depleted vitamins in your body while drinking plenty of water in a given period of time you will start feeling less like a dump truck full of dirty assholes  and more like your old self – Unless of course you feel like a dump truck of dirty assholes on a normal day.

That being said, Zaca is the first and only wondiferous hangover cure that I have ever tested that actually works. Period.

I first tried the Zaca patch during a Memorial Day Weekend camping trip. The instructions are pretty simple: “Place the patch on your skin before you begin drinking and leave on for 24 hours.” Now girls, you can get away with the option of putting it on your bikini area so it isn’t seen. DO NOT PUT IT ON OR NEAR YOUR PUBES OR TOO CLOSE TO YOUR VA-JAYJAY. THE GLUE THEY USE IS RIDICULOUS.

Being a guy I chose the many option of just slapping it on my shoulder and calling it good. This was a problem. No less than five people (drunk shirtless rednecks) came up to me and said something to the effect of, “Hey man, hows that patch workin out for ya?” The first time I gave the guy a confused look and said, “Don’t know, haven’t gotten drunk enough to see.” To which I got an equally confused look and the reply, “What’s drinking got to do with how well a nicotine patch works?”

Fuck. Wearing this thing on my arm while shirtless and drinking Natty Light out of a can had taken me to White-trash-trying-to-quit-smoking-level-10. The next day I would just wear it on my left ass cheek. Wearing it on my bikini line would just be gay.

We floated down the river, drank, ate, drank, played Bear Pong until 4am while drinking and then finally fell asleep right before dawn to Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep” playing on repeat in some distant truck stereo.

About 4 hours later my eyes opened. I lay still, assessing my overall feeling of feeling like shit. Other than feeling a little tired and sunburned, I felt pretty damn good. As soon as I came to the conclusion that I had in fact drank for 16 straight hours and gotten 4 hours of sleep in a tent and felt completely normal, I sat up to check on my buddy Dave.

Dave resembled what a someone in a concentration camp would look like if the camp were filled with people with spikey hair who wore bathing suits. He did NOT have a Zaca patch on. I had to leave a few hours later. I went home, mowed my yard and started drinking again. I would later find out that Dave would have to call his wife to come get him because of the severity of his hangover.

At the end of 24 hours I put on another patch and got the same results the next morning. Granted I didn’t drink the the same extent, but I got the smae results nonetheless.

The Real Test – 5 Days In New Orleans

After it’s strong showing at the Memorial Weekend camp out, I decided to throw the kitchen sink at both myself and Zaca – Five days in New Orleans

If you’ve never been to New Orleans before, let me sum it up for you:

It’s a thoroughfare of bars and Jazz clubs competing for your patronage. Three-for-one drink specials, all day happy hours, no cutoff time and jazz music blaring from every alley and dilapidated, voodooesque doorway. And everyone is hammered. All day and night.

The first night we scored some tickets to the House of Blues and saw quite possible the best concert ever. A Prince cover band called “1999″. I was alternating locally brewed Abita Turbodog with Smirnoff and Redbull. I was drinking like I didn’t have shit to do the next day. Truth was I had to be at the convention center at 8 am and had to talk to doctors, nurses and vendors until 6 with no break.

This would be the true test of the little 2 inch miracle patch I was wearing on my arm.

The next morning I slowly opened my eyes fully expecting to feel like I had been repeatedly  jackhammered by Bill Goldberg.

Nothing.

The only thing I felt was a veracious hunger pang in my stomach. As I lay there, my wife woke up and asked me how I felt. “Fanfuckingtastic” I replied. To which she replied with a look of utter disbelief, “How?”

I hadn’t told her about the patch yet. Once I filled her in she demanded one and promptly put it on.

Over a breakfast of fried catfish and grits – Yes, catfish and grits for breakfast…with wasabi sauce. That’s how good I felt – I told my boss and his wife about my new best friend, the Zaca patch. Over the next 4 days, each morning,  I gave everyone their Zaca patch for the day.

We drank like it was our job for those next four days. No one was ever hung over. Ever.

Some time later I would put Zaca through the gauntlet during a 4-day stint in Vegas. Same results.

Kids, I get nothing from the folks at Zaca for telling you to buy this product. If there’s something on the market that works better, I haven’t seen it.

I remember back in the day – circa 1999 – when putting Jolly Ranchers in Zima was all the rage. I also remember that putting a Jolly Rancher in a Zima was so completely gay that even Barbara-Streisand-ticket-holding-cakeboys didn’t even do it. Jolly Ranchers Y Zima were for the future Real Houswives of Whatever County audience and the fat-guy-in-a-skinny-guy-shirt-metrosexuals that would marry them.

Fireball Whisky is what I would have drank back in the day – circa 1999 – had I possessed the Nostrodomian-like foresight and intuition to put a crushed-up Atomic Fireball in a glass of Whisky.

A few days ago a made a stop by my local parasite liquor store (That’s a liquor store owned by a grocery store but with a separate entrance so the Bible-thumping grocery store owners can save face) to pick up some staples when at the checkout I came across an auspicious sample display with little 50ml bottles of Fireball Whisky spilling out of the bottom.

At first, while I swiped my debit card and paid for the Fris Vodka I had come for, I thought, “That’s pretty cool.” But then, when the clerk asked me if there was anything else I needed, I picked up one of the little bottles and said, “What’s this?”

“They say it tastes like like a fireball. You know? The ones like when you we’re a kid,” Replied the clerk.

I bought 10 at $1 each.

I was giddy, and like a high school girl with a bottle of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill, as soon as I got to my car I cracked one open and slammed it. At first I held my breath, but as soon as I exhaled I felt like running balls-out-naked across a playground while hysterically laughing and screaming MY MOUTH IS ON FIIIAAARRRR!!! I was a 5-year-old with the most awesome candy known to man. Candy that would get me drunk.

I shit you not. This stuff tastes just like you just ground up an Atomic Fireball with a set of robot teeth and chased it with a shot of Wild Turkey. Absolutely amazing. Gave some to my dad – loved it. Gave a shot to my mom – loved it. Wife – loved it. You get the idea. I have yet to find a single person who doesn’t like Fireball Whisky. But the looming question remained – would it mix?

Fireball Whiskey and Coke – Tastes like drinking a Coke with an Atomic Fireball in your mouth.

Fireball Whiskey and Sprite – Tastes like drinking a sprite with an Atomic Fireball in your mouth.

Fireball Whiskey and Orange juice – Tastes like drinking OJ with an Atomic Fireball in your mouth.

You get the idea.

I’ve gotten pretty buzzed off this stuff but not drunk or hammered yet because honestly 6 or 7 strait, room temperature shots of Fireball Whisky is all you can take in a short period before your throat feels like it’s been turned inside-out and dragged down a road made out of 1,000 cheese graters. But a good kind of road made of cheese graters:)

After falling in love with this stuff I decided to take a walk over to their website and see what the company was all about. The gist of it is that this type of Whisky was invented by some lonely, bored and snowed-in Canadians in the mid-80′s as a cure for frost bite or some shit like that. Either way, I dig the owner Richard’s style as much as his product. Fireball can now be bought in Canada, the United States and England, and is also available in Israel, Norway, Sweden and Finland. I bought a 750ml for about $14.

I also found some good recipes on the site too.

First things first, this is the song I’m listening to as I write this product review. Lil’ Wayne gets me AMPED! I suggest you listen to this at high volume in a residential area whilts reading this review.

Now on to the BEARPONG review…

Nathan and I had a professor years ago at UF that always told us that if you’re going to do anything, swing for the fences and do it big. I think the crew over at BEARPONG had the same kind of professor.

Remember how much bigger everything looked like when you were a little kid? Your dad was a giant, your elementary school was the size of Rhode Island and 5th-graders were some big motherfuckers. BEARPONG is what beerpong would have looked like if we played it when we were 5-years-old.

Giant and epic in every sense of the word.

When I got the chance to get my hands on a deluxe BEARPONG kit, I jumped at the chance like a pedophile on a half-price panel van.

A Few short days after placing my order for the Deluxe kit, a non-descriptive brown package with “DO NOT USE KNIFE TO OPEN” emblazoned all over it arrived via UPS.

I carefully opened it and found much more than I expected. First of all it was heavy as shit which told me it wasn’t a bunch of cheap flower pots with some cheesy stickers on them. All 12 buckets had the BEARPONG logo embossed on them in white lettering and were all stacked neatly inside one another with two pre-inflated, over-sized pong balls nestled in the top bucket. It also came with a slick little pump for the balls and a set of play instructions.

All of this was inside a black nylon case with a heavy duty shoulder strap. I have to say, these guys did a really good job with the quality of both the kit itself and the carrying case. The only downside is that the whole package is round and sounds like a dead body rolling around in my trunk unless I wedge it in between the actual dead bodies in the trunk.

It was a while before I got a chance to break this bad mama-jamma out at an actual party, but when I did everyone went wild. Even the hard-core beer pong players we’re in Bush-era shock and awe.

The buckets are actually designed with great balance so that if you hit the rim the whole thing dumps over just like a real SOLO cup. Another great thing about this ginormous kit is that you can get creative with what you put in each bucket. You can put whole cans of Steel Reserve, cups of Four Loko, shots of Tilt and yes, you can even be an asshole and hide the occasional Smirnoff Ice in one of the buckets.

And from what I saw, BEARPONG is anyone’s game. Traditional beer pong skills don’t translate to BEARPONG. So even a professional like Nathan “Clutch” Thompson can get schooled on any given night at a game of BEARPONG.

So if you, or someone you know who you haven’t gotten a Christmas gift for yet, likes drinking games or are an absolute attention whore like me, I would highly recommend a BEARPONG kit. The Deluxe kit like I got was $65 well spent.

Here’s a link to their website. If you hurry they can get it to you by Christmas. And I have no idea whose dog that is.

Here’s some pics of the kit I got:

What I got when I watched “The Four Loko Theme” on YouTube was NOT a pasty Midwestern white kid with a guitar. What I got was a baller, shot caller with 20 inch Blades on his Impala. I was shocked. Snoop Dogg couldn’t have written better lyrics even if he had been having sex while collaborating with Andre 3000. And the cherry on top was a melody and instrumental that would have made Al Green and Sleepy Brown cry.

It should also be added that Diddy would be hard-pressed to make a video with better production quality. The only thing this song/video is missing is a cameo by Lil’ Wayne or Lil’ John or some other coll-ass mofo with Lil’ before their name.

I may be a 33-year-old white guy from Florida, but I know gangster-ass shit when I see it. And this, my friends, is some gangster-ass shit. See for yourself.

If someone offered you $10,000 if you could crash 100 parties in 100 days from Memorial Day to Labor Day, could you do it?

This is the exact proposition that Function Party Crasher, Willie, was offered and is currently attempting in his quest to prove that Function Drink’s Urban Detox is indeed the drinking man’s liquid hangover cure of choice.

And while I’m not one for crashing parties on a nightly basis, I do like to get the party started on weekends. Currently my hangover cure of choice is drinkwel vitamin supplements, a lemon-lime Gatorade and a solid amount of sleep. But when it comes to maintaining the drinking lifestyle, one can never be too prepared when it comes to hangover prevention.

I decided to see if Urban Detox could replace Gatorade as my post drinking, drink of choice—not so much as a hangover cure or preventative—but more so as a healthy alternative to a beer only diet. Because let’s be real. Just because something has antioxidants, doesn’t mean that it’s going to cancel out those 6 beers, 4 patron shots and 2 four lokos you downed the night before. It’s just not.

So with that in mind, I gave Function’s Urban Detox Goji Berry and Citrus Prickly Pear a try. Prickly pear is one of the key hangover cure ingredients according to the label on the bottle. Apparently it helps with those pounding hangover headaches you feel the next day. I don’t know about all that, but I do know that the Citrus Prickly Pear flavor was delicious. It’s lighter tasting (see: less syrupy) than Gatorade, and better tasting than G2 in my opinion. And while I can’t accurately vouch for it’s hangover curing abilities just yet, I can say that Function is a great alternative to the sugary Vitamin waters, Gatorades and other “healthy” drinks available out there. And if Function Party Crasher Willie makes it to all 100 of those parties, I’d say that’s a pretty bold statement in and of itself.

Give it a try and leave a comment with your thoughts…

Steel Reserve

Earlier tonight I made my way to the BP station – not to buy gas mind you (Fuck BP) -  to buy my go-to 4 pack of Steel Reserve tall boys when I made a startling discovery. On the shelf below all the gaudy Four Loko cans, nestled right NEXT to the Steel Reserve was a line of silver and black cans with “Earthquake” emblazoned in red on them.

I didn’t pay them much mind at first. I actually picked up a flavor of Four Loko that I hadn’t tried yet and was studying it when I noticed out of my peripheral that the Earthquake can shared the same 12% ABV rating as the foul-tasting Four Loko I had in my hand.

Could it be? A lager with the kick of a malt liquor? It was like I had found an actual Liger, but instead of being bred for its skills in magic, this one had been bred for its skills in getting me totally shitfaced while NOT tasting like an orange Airborne tablet dissolved in kerosene.

Erring on the side of caution, I opted to only buy one 24oz can for a grand total of $1.59 – $1.70 with tax. A paper bag and a Lotto ticket later I was back in the car and on my way home with my new find.

Fast forward to now. As I write this post I’m only half way through the can via my trusty Dog-N-Suds mug and I’m buzzin’ like a chainsaw. The rate at which I got this point is identical to when I drink a comparable malt liquor like Four Loko or Joose.

I still can’t get over the taste. It’s actually kind of sweet and doesn’t take a gut lined with chain mail to get through the first few sips before the high alcohol content numbs the senses.

It’s nothing like Steel Reserve which can sometimes taste like you’re drinking an 80-year-old Mexican hooker’s bath water. It’s nice and smooth.

So in conclusion….I never thought I’d ever say this….I believe this will be my new “Get drunk on a budget” pick. Steel Reserve, if you’re listening, you better step up yout game and come up with a 13% ABV brew or something. You’re losing customers to the new innovators of the High Gravity Lager world.

“For those of you still trying to figure out that analogy, here’s the Cliffs Notes: Firefly Vodka made a spirit normally reserved for cold weather and made it acceptable to drink in the middle of Summer.”

Such a monumental hadn’t been achieved since Charlie Sheen convinced someone to pay him $2million and episode for the worst sitcom on TV.

But it’s 2010 people. We have a black President, oil spewing into the gulf and Cola Flavored Vodka. That’s right. I said cola flavored vodka. This summer the crew over at 360 Vodka decided to make vodka that tastes exactly like cola.

Now I’ve actually had vodka mixed with Coke before, but it wasn’t by choice. I was drinking Smirnoff and Simply Orange when I ran out of Simply Orange about four drinks in. The only thing I had left was a 2-liter of Coke to mix it with and I was to drunk to even drive a nail, let alone a car. But I digress.

As with most peculiar alcohols I review here, I came across 360 Cola Flavored Vodka by chance. I was perusing the vodka aisle when I noticed the coolest bottle I’d ever seen. It looked like the love child of a bottle of vodka and a Grolsch Ale.

It was a tall, slender bottle with one of those cool mechanical caps on it – Like on a Grolsch bottle. There were actually three of them. One regular, one chocolate flavored and one cola flavored. Since the economy sucks and I’m now on a drinking budget, (Thanks a pants load Dave Ramsey) I had to choose just one. I chose the 360 Cola Vodka since it was by far the strangest of the three.

I paid the $16 for the 750ml and headed home. At this point its probably good to mention that around the neck of the bottle was a rebate form for $10 off my next bottle of 360 Vodka. SO essentially, if one were to become a 360 Vodka drinker, they could do so for $6 a bottle. They actually give $20 off the 1.75L bottles.

I got home and filled my favorite tumbler full of ice. True to the style on my behalf (Snoop Dogg lyric) I filled half the glass with the 360 Cola Vodka ad the other half with Coke. Completely expecting to have a flashback of the last time I mixed vodka with cola, I took a drink.

Somewhere in Siberia, the clouds parted, the sun shone through and a lone tear ran down a Russian’s cheek. At the exact same moment, Jarred Williams – a 23-year-old who works in the mail room at Coca-Cola, but will one day become President and CEO of the company – had a vision of Joseph Stalin giving him a thumbs-up.

Absolutely amazing. It tastes exactly like a Coke. The only thing that gives it a way is a brisk aftertaste like your mouth just got cleaned out by a toothbrush with an outboard Mercury attached to it. In a good way.

The stuff is only 35% alcohol, so you can actually drink quite a bit of it before you think you’re invisible.  And if you need another reason to go out and try it, 360 Vodka is the first eco-friendly vodka. The distillery takes every step imaginable to ensure this vodka is produced in the most eco-friendly way possible.

The bottle is made of recycled glass, as is the label. And it even comes with a pre-paid envelope for you to send back the mechanical stopper to be re-used. Not only will they re-use the stoppers, they’ll donate $1 for every one sent back to various environmental causes.

I’ve never felt strongly either way about Sam Adams beer. I’ve always viewed their normal fare as so so and not worth the $7.89 price it commands for a sixer. However, I have become a fan of their seasonal beers. Actually I’ve become a fan of seasonal beers in general, but Sam Adams definitely caught my eye with their Winter Lager.

I was headed to my parent’s house for the weekend when I stopped off at the ABC Liquor store to see if I could find something new. (The town my parents live in has 2 red lights and isn’t known for its beer selection) I perused the entire cooler until I decided on a 12-pack of some off-the-wall German beer. That is until I realized Sam Adams Winter Lager, which was normally $7.89 a six-pack, was on sale for $13 for a 12-pack.

Not being one to pass up a deal on a moderately seasonal beer, I reneged on the German stock and opted for the Sam Adams. I was hungry, so I also grabbed a Slim Jim and some Planters peanuts, paid the cashier and hit the door for the 35 mile trek through the country back roads to my parents house to watch Florida pound FSU.

Trial And Error

As soon as I hit the county line where I knew every deputy and his brother, I tore open the beer box all the while being mindful of the cut on my hand that was now burning from the salty peanuts. As I attempted to twist the cap of I became aware that I had overlooked one small, yet important detail. Sam Adams seasonal brews are pry off, not twist off.

I didn’t have a lighter or a metal drink mixing cup, so I tried my teeth. Then I remembered why I only did that trick after I had been drinking. Then I realized the peanuts had a metal bottom and quickly pried it of using my free hand for leverage.

Rodeo-cold Sam Adams Winter Lager is pretty damn good. I found out later cold Sam Adams Winter Lager is even better and with an ABV of 5.8, it’ll get ya drunk! I’ve drank enough of this to get a good buzz going, but I haven’t gotten hammered off of it yet so I can’t tell if it will give you a hangover. Part of the reason for not getting hammered off of it is I haven’t really had an opportune time to, the other reason is that it’s such a full bodied and good tasting beer that I find myself only wanting 2-3 at any given time.

Verdict

Sam Adams Winter Lager is the perfect beer for having a beer to unwind after a long day, or taking to a social event where you’d probably get fired if you got drunk and made an ass of yourself. It’s a sipping beer, perfect for winter. Hell, even my wife likes it and actually sent me on a beer run for it a few nights ago when she realized we were out. I would definitely recommend Sam Adams Winter Lager to anyone.

For most of my life I’ve been able to maintain a relatively good physique by eating and drinking whatever I wanted just as long as I made a concerted effort to go to the gym at least twice a week. Most of my life.

As my early twenties became my late twenties, I began to notice I was buying my pants and shorts on different racks than before. 32′s gave way to 34′s and by the time I was 30 I was in a 36″ waist. WTF? I hadn’t changed the way I did anything in more than 10 years.

Several months ago – at nearly 32-years-old -  I had what most alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity. My body was changing the way it processed everything I put into it as my metabolism began to slow. It had also begun to view my half-hearted attempts in the gym with a  general malaise matched only by Stephen Hawking if he were to watch a 5th-grade algebra lecture.

It was time for me to take care of myself and get back into shape.

I started by cutting out a lot of processed foods and soda. Gone were the sour cream and chive Lays potato chips and in were the 100 percent corn Santitas. I even went so far as buying a calf and feeding it organic grain until it was nearly 700lbs. After butchering I had 400 lbs of lean, organic beef that cost me less than $.99 lb when it was all said and done. I was living the healthy lifestyle.

Between mountain biking on the awesome trails behind my house, going to the gym twice a week and changing my eating habits, I went from 215 lbs of out of shape 31-year-old to a 205 lb 31-year-old in moderate shape. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t look good naked like Brad Pitt or anything, but it was a vast improvement. But I felt great, and was stronger than I had ever been.

The problem was that I kept hovering around that 205 lb mark. I did have the foresight to check my body fat percentage before and after and found that it had actually gone down several percentage points. But nonetheless i still had a bit of a gut and some very manly love handles.

What the hell? I was exercising, eating better and drinking almost a gallon of water a day but still looked like I was a lazy bum. Then it hit me. My Achilles heel was indeed my favorite past time…Drinking.

The numbers don’t lie.

I sat down with a calculator and figured out that during any given week I was consuming an extra 10,000+ calories in liquid form. Trust me, its not hard to do. If you buy a 1.75L of Platinum 7x Vodka and enough 120 calorie per serving Simply Orange orange juice to mix with it and polish both off over the course of 7 days, you’ve essentially consumed an extra 5 days of calories. Here’s a handy little calorie chart if you don’t believe me.

Now I’m not saying I drank a 1.75L of liquor every week. Some weeks I just drank beer. (Don’t get me started on how Steel Reserve has 225+ calories per 12oz) And some weeks I didn’t drink much at all. I just wanted to illustrate how drinking on a regular basis can lay waste to the best laid plans of living a healthy lifestyle. Specifically drinking liquor with any type of mixer.

With this new knowledge in hand I knew it was time to make some changes to my drinking habits. It was time to trim the fat. I decided I would cut out those fattening, sugary and calorie laden mixers like orange juice and coke and start drinking my liquor straight.

I knew this was a firm decision. A decision similar to the one the first guy who had sex with a monkey and contacted AIDS made, and would take some conviction on my part. It takes one of two things to be able to drink straight liquor on a regular basis. Either a fat wallet to be able to afford the finer spirits that were meant to be enjoyed all on their own, or a strong will with an equally strong gut to be able to tolerate the alcohol I could actually afford. Did I mention this gig doesn’t pay that well?

I eventually ventured into Spring Hill Liquors to see if I could catch something on one of their famous half-off discounts when I happened upon the Scotch section of the store. It was at that precise moment I remembered a cheap Scotch called Speyburn, that years ago, I had drank on a regular basis.

I remembered it was something like $13 the last time I had it. Unfortunately, by this time Speyburn had obviously developed a following and was now selling in the mid $30 and up range. Then on the second shelf from the bottom, right above the generics I saw a sign that read “John Barr Blended Scotch Whiskey, Reg. $17.99 Now $10,99!” We have a winner.

I scooped up my bargain find, paid the man and headed home.

John Barr is another great example that you don’t have to spend a fortune to get good booze. I would take the Pepsi challenge with just about any scotch on the market with the exception of the ultra smooth scotches like Johnny Walker Black. It’s great by itself over ice or with just a splash of water to tone it down. It’s nice and sweet and I’ve never gotten a headache of any kind while drinking it.

The funny thing about drinking scotch is that not only am I cutting out calories by not using mixers, I’m actually cutting calories because I just don’t drink as much as I would if it were say, Jack and Coke.

I stuck with the John Barr for quite a while and it was the boost I needed. I dropped into the 198-200 lb range and can actually wear some clothes I haven’t been able to wear in a while. I still throw in other liquors and beer for the sake of having things to write about, but I can say that John Barr Blended Scotch Whiskey is definitely worth trying if you’re looking to shed a few pounds without giving up one of your favorite past times. Plus it will probably offset all the food you’re going to eat this holiday season.

It was a Saturday in late September 2008. I had several people over to watch Florida stomp whom ever they were playing as usual, and Nathan and Rachel were two hours late. As usual. I think there was an issue with Rachel’s jeans or something. I can’t really recall.

What I can recall is when Nathan finally arrived, we made our way to Springhill Liquors – My favorite liquor store in the whole world. The reason it’s my favorite, as I believe I’ve mentioned before, is because the owner will mark really expensive bottles of whatever down by as much as 50 percent just to move them or get people to try them. This is how I found jewels like Zaya Gran Reserva Rum and Sonnema Herb Vodka.

As we walked down the isles we discussed the possibilities each bargain-priced bottle of affluence held for the night. We were looking for something unique. Something neither of us had ever tried before. Then we saw it.

Awkwardly nestled on the top shelf of an isle between the Jager and the After Shock was a tillish, slenderish, green box with a brass spoon looking thing attached, and gold and green writing that looked as if it had been scribed by some ancient sect of alcoholic yet artistic monks thousands of years ago.

In large letters it read: “Grande Absente.” Under that the words, “Absinthe Originale – 138 Proof,” glowed like a bug zapper in a trailer park and Nathan and I were the bugs. The coup de gras was the bright yellow sunburst label that had been attached with a liberal helping of scotch tape that read, “Absinthe! Only $69.95!” (It was originally priced at $85.99)

I had two flashbacks almost instantaneously.

The first was of a story I read years ago in the very first issue of Maxim magazine. It was an account of the editors experience with some illegal absinthe he had purchased from a guy out of the trunk of his car. I remembered how he described the night and also remembered thinking that one day I absolutely HAD to try absinthe for myself.

The second was of an article I had read a few months earlier talking about how Absinthe had been made legal in the U.S. and how we were actually getting better (and safer) stuff than you could in Europe because of the stricter FDA regulations.

So there it was in front of us. The very spirit that made Van Gough thing cutting off his ear and sending it to a girl was a pretty good idea. After about thirty seconds of deliberation we decided to split the cost to see just how twisted this stuff was.

After making our purchase we went next door to the Publix supermarket and bought sugar cubes along with all the other football-party cookout stuff we were supposed to get. Then we headed home so that everyone else could bask in the glory of our discovery…and to not tell my wife and Nathan’s girlfriend that we just spent more on a bottle of alcohol than we did on either of their birthday presents.

We decided to hold off on the big reveal until after the game was over and we had everyone’s undivided attention. That and we figured it would be easier to get drunk people to drink something that was supposed to make you hallucinate and also tasted like licorice made from dirty socks.

Everyone gathered around the big pub table in my kitchen and took turns smelling and otherwise thoroughly examining the bottle of bright green fairy juice while I gathered everything I needed to make enough traditional absinthe drinks for everyone.

I had everything I needed. Sugar cubes, filtered water, martini glasses and the brass spoon that came with bottle. It was time to get weird.

It’s All In The Mix

If you’ve never made or seen someone make a traditional absinthe drink, it’s actually quite simple:

First you need a clean glass. I prefer a martini glass just for aesthetic reasons but any type will do. Pour two ounces of Absinthe in the bottom of the glass. Place the Absinthe spoon over the glass and place a sugar cube on the spoon. Next SLOWLY drip chilled water over the sugar cube. (If you pour too fast the sugar won’t dissolve properly.) The amount you use depends on how strong you want your drink to be. I prefer a 1 to 1 ratio. Finally stir the mix until it turns milky-white and the sugar has dissolved.

If you don’t have a fancy absinthe spoon or time for tradition,  you can combine the Absinthe and water along with granulated sugar and ice in a shaker just like you would a traditional cocktail.

Now as far as I can remember, back in the day if I told my friends eating a horse turd would get them totally whacked out of their gourde, they would have found a way to get past the taste. My how times have changed.

Don’t get me wrong, I HATE licorice. Of all the candies in the world, licorice is the most vile and disgusting one ever dreamed up by some crazy candy fiend. But for the sake of science, a good post and the possibility of having a mind-altering experience, I’m willing to put aside my differences towards licorice.

My friends, in the now older, married and wiser states were not ready to concede their palettes’ proclivities toward things that didn’t taste like the sweat from a licorice makers arm pit. . I could see the girls turning their noses up due to the sheer fact that I had given each of them a 4oz drink with 2 of those ounces being 69 percent alcohol. However, I wasn’t going to let the guys off that easy. I made each of them have at lest two and of course I made Nathan have three or four.

Nathan and Rachel would later tell me that after they left they were on a completely different level than everyone else at the birthday party they went to. Oops… I forgot they told me they had to go to a birthday party afterward. My bad. I bet the party was waaayyy more fun though.

Talking In Circles

One by one everyone said their goodbyes and made their ways to whatever other late-night obligations they had. By then it was late and Laura headed off to bed leaving me alone and wide awake with more than 3/4 of a bottle of Grande Absente and a pyramid of sugar cubes.

I made myself another drink and and began to look around my kitchen for other liquids that might mix well with Absinthe as to mask the taste of licorice. A taste I had quickly grown tired of but as mentioned earlier was enduring in the name of some half-ass journalistic doctrine I feel the need to adhere to. That and of course, in the name of the science of getting hammered.

I looked everywhere. I sorted through the various jars of pickle juice, jalapenos and pickled okra and decided it would be a waste of good booze to try any of those. I continued my search and finally came across a bottle of orange juice when I remembered the time I mixed cheap tequila with orange juice and it had completely masked the taste of the tequila.

By this point I had finished my drink I mentioned earlier and made another with equal parts Absinthe and OJ. Heaven. Although there was indeed a licorice aftertaste, the initial taste that once dominated the glass was all but gone.

I continued drinking my new discovery and began coming up with some of the most profound insights and thoughts. I had the foresight to write them down but when I finally came across the notepad several days later, even I couldn’t make much sense of the alcoholic shorthand i had scribbled all over the pages. I had even drawn diagrams of what looked like a hammock similar in design to those chairs that fold up and fit into bags.

There was also a rudimentary drawing of a computer with a mouse plugged into it  that looked like a CB radio mic with the words “Trucker Mouse” scrawled across the top. (I actually still think that one was a good idea)

I was definitely playing a different sport than usual when my wife came out of the room and said, “How much longer are you going to be walking around the house talking to yourself?”

I remember being confused. According to her I had been walking in a circle from the kitchen to the living room to the dining room and back to the kitchen while talking to myself for more than 2 hours about all the ideas that were flooding my brain. I can’t say for certain what I was talking about, but I’m pretty sure I solved one or two of the world’s problems. I just wish I could remember any of it.

After that I decided to slam as much Gatorade as I could and then call it a night.

Conclusion

So did I see green fairies and have an out of body experience? No. But I will tell you this; not ever before, nor ever since, have I had such an inspiring drunken experience as I did that night or have as good of a time as I did that night all by myself. That night, my thoughts were all the entertainment I needed. I could have worked out problems and thought up cool shit until the sun came up if I had been left to my own devices.

So would I recommend trying Absinthe? Absolutely. If not for the strange and entertaining drunk, go in with your buddies and buy a good bottle just to say you’ve done it. Because no matter how much the bottle costs, the story about the time you drank Absinthe will be priceless.