So apparently at one point I guided a small search party down to the basement to show them my Dad In A Box and the dead cat in the freezer topped with hamburger buns.
If that makes no sense, I'd say, "You had to be there." But that's the thing: I don't really remember being there either. Thank god for the memories of slightly less-drunk Henchgirls.
Y'know, I honestly thought the biggest fiasco with the grog would be that the home-made falernum
would taste awful, or that I would screw up the proportions of light rum, gold rum, and dark rum, or hell, just use too much triple sec. Heck, I thought the fact that the falernum wouldn't be ready until midnight meant that it would be too late for anyone to want grog, if anyone would be left at the party.
No, no, the falernum was amazing
, holy shit. Wow. And the resulting grog was goddamned perfect, better than even the grog at Piratz Tavern. The fiasco, rather, came from the fact that I was actually damn fool enough to *drink* the stuff.
When you are drinking a full mug of three different kinds of rum, triple sec, and a spiced syrup derived from overproof rum--the kind that has a label on front that reads "Warning: Flammable"--know this: it's a sometimes food. The sort of thing you want to drink only when you're not drinking anything else
I've never gotten so drunk that I've actually lost time before. At least, as far as I know (which is suddenly far less comforting a thought as before). Henchgirl is recounting a couple things that I have absolutely zero recollection doing. That shit's kind of scary, especially for me, for whom the validation of memory is a very tender personal issue. So yeah, never doing that again. In fact, my liver and brain cells would probably appreciate me laying off the booze for a bit, even though I totally just scored some new bitters
I'm dying to try out. I don't know *where* I will be able to use rhubarb bitters, but god damn if I ain't interested in finding out!... ooh, maybe a strawberry daiquiri?
The party--what I remember of it, anyway, which I dare say is 98%--was magnificent. I'd particularly like to give a special shout-out to frumple
and K. bringing a home-made apple pie, with half of it sprinkled with cinnamon, Two-Face style! They know me so well.
Hopefully everyone had a great time, and to all those who missed it, well, you stink but I still love you. Maybe I'll see you at my next party, where I use you all as guinea pigs for my various experiments with bitters in drink and food alike! Because lord knows I'm not gonna be fool enough to subject my body to that kind of abuse again. Tony Stark I am clearly not. Hmm... I wonder what the rhubarb bitters would taste like *in* the grog...?
NO! BAD HEFFIE! NO DRINKIE!