Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Firewater burns.

Last weekend, very much like the weekend before it, was most excellent. Unfortuntely, sister had to bail on us at the last minute. Not only was I pretty disappointed, but J2 was as well. There was some confusion on Friday, at first, it seeemed that J2 might not be allowed off the boat until five or six that evening, but things worked out and he arrived shortly after seven. We went and hung out with Drunk Bill for a while.

Our old friend Drunk Bill is a good guy, he just spends most of his days drunk. Friday was no exeption. As he told it, he got out of class at one and by two he was on the couch with six Tall Boys. It wasn't long before they were gone. By the time we arrived at Drunk Bill's it was eight thirty or so and he was living up to his name. We finished the night pretty early.

I got up on Saturday and put in twelve miles with my running folks. It was thirty degrees when I left the house at five thirty and thirty four when I returned at seven forty five. I roused J2 and got him going.

By ten, we headed to campus and met up with my friend. I saw an old picture of him in his apartment. The picture showed him before he got his hair cut and removed all his piercings. He looked like a Beatnik. It should be noted that he no longer looks this way, but it's funny so that's going to be his name from now on.

The Beatnik was kind enough to invite us to his tailgate. His tailgate was actually his friends parents tailgate but J2 and I were accepted as one of the bunch in no time. They were actually really welcoming and nice people. They even were fairly kind to J2 considering he was adorned in the colors of the enemy.

This particular tailgate has a special tradition. At the end of the season, the last home game, the patriarch of the operation brings some special 'white whisky' to the affair. I was intrigued once I figured it wasn't water.

A few of the regulars were taking shots when I was invited to join in. Not wanting to be rude, and wanting to satisfy my own curiosity, I agreed. I was poured a shot. It turned out to be quite a large shot too. I didn't say 'when' quick enough. I was instructed to shoot it back. 'This drink is not for sipping it's for shootin,' I was told. After a few whiffs to gather the not so subtle aromas, I was ready. With only a slight hesitation, I tipped it back.

As I suspected from the get go, the shot was a little more than my mouth could handle. I got some splashage around my lips and let me tell you, firewater burns. It was a very strange sensation going down. I'm not that much of a liquor drinker, but I've shot my share of Vodka in the past. It was nothing like it. J2 has shot Everclear with Drunk Bill in the past and he said it was even nothing like it either. It was actually quite good. The flavor was nice and it warmed my insides as it slid down my throat into my stomach. I got a very distinct and pleasureable warming sensation in my innards.


We went to the game after spending a while at the tailgate. The game was amazing. Probably one of the best I've ever been to here on the Plains. J2 wasn't too pleased, but what can you do?

After the game, we headed back to the tailgate and its copious amounts of free food and beer. We stood around the propane heaters warming ourselves as we discussed football and other important matters.

Sunday, we got up and had a lazy morning. Roughly midday, we made our ritual hangover relieving trip to Subway. After footlongs were history, J2 hit the road.

With our new friends at the tailgate providing all manner of food and drinks, we ended up only spending about thirteen dollars each. What a victory.

It was another great weekend.

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