Quote:
Originally Posted by aceflor
Now I just stick to tequila and my life is wonderful.  |
For me tequila has the most favorable ratio
(effects_of_the_third_kind) /hangover.
The problem with it is that tastes ugly. So that you have to use local anesthetics in the form of salt and lemon.
The worst ratio is for beer. No flash and an eternity to be able see the light in the eyes again.
The best flash is from wodka at room temperature. Once I was at a small conference in Czechia, with a bunch of Russians. The last day, instead of going to the pub like every other night and get soaked with the local brew, and come back on the elbows, we all got together and everybody came down with his own bottle. I had some Teachers, that was still sealed. Why open it if there was the pub with that great beer and that ice cold peach shots to chase it down. They had their own good stuff. After proper lubrication, one guy drunk a big glass of it at my health and then offered me a full glass of it, nodding and smiling. I sort of figured it was a very friendly gesture, propitious of international brotherhood, but also a sort of virility trial. Although there was also a Siberian lady that was filtering it quite efficiently. And the only strange thing about her were the hairs of her ears that were standing up instead of being cutely and modestly curled. So I thanked him warmly, and carefully took the glass in my hand. I examined the limpid absence of turbidity, the almost viscous quality of the fluid in the glass: I had a few already, like everybody else. Eventually I did exactly as he had done. One single, slow long pull, looking the guy in the eye. What a flash. Setting up nicely and growing and glowing from the stomach up to the head were it did indeed kaboom. When I handed back the empty glass, I found an other glass filled to the rim under my nose, and grinning Russians looking at me, sort of knowingly expectant. I was going to pick it up, and do an encore, oblivious of consequences, when my Norwegian friend, that was standing behind me, put an hand on my shoulder and said no. Just that. So I seated back and said, no sorry, it would be too much for me. The Russian smiled and put it down like it was water.