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Originally Posted by DaneMcCloud
Ugh.
I haven't touched that stuff since high school.
Grain parties were hilarious. They're would be all these people saying "Hey, Grain's nothing! I can't even feel it!".
15 minutes later, everyone's passed out on the floor.
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I once knew this giant hippie guy (not very well, mind you, for I am upstanding) who stood probably 6.4 or so and weighed in at 350 at a minimum. Well, this giant hippie guy worked for another guy from Joplin who owned some bars around the area among other various entrepreneurial pursuits. Anyhow, from what I could tell, this giant hippie guy's basic job was to spend his days sitting behind a desk in some sort of outbuilding structure located by his boss's house in the country, answering phones, and shooting the bull with whoever just happened to drop by. The thing is that he kept a clear glass gallon jug of shine with him at all times. Without fail, and on each and every occasion in which I encountered this individual, he would heft up his jug by sort of twisting his wrist and cradling it in his elbow. Then he would throw his massive head back, pour about a cup and a half of that sh*t down his gullet, slam the jug down with a resounding thump, wipe the dribble off his beard with the back of his hand, and shout "Hooooeeeeooo!" at the top of his lungs. Remarkably, he would repeat these actions every 10 to 20 minutes or so - I swear to God - all friggin' day long.
Needless to say, I was both impressed and horrified. One day, he offered me a swig and, either out of concern for etiquette or fear, I felt compelled to accept. Well, Holy Mary Mother Of Jesus On The Train To Perdition, that sh*t was incredible. I could feel it burn like hot knives forged in the fires of Hell all the way down from the tip of my tongue to the ends of my toes. Within moments what was left of my rational mind accepted the fact that I had basically just quaffed an inordinate share of liquid death and stepped voluntarily through the looking glass into a brave new world comprised primarily of blurred images, slurred speech, and vomit. I swear, how this giant hippie dude could handle the sheer volume of devil's sweat he consumed in just an hour's time was an absolute miracle of nature, although I'm sure he's long since gone to the great revenuer in the sky. Farewell, giant hippie guy. You are not forgotten.
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