a drunken absurdity experiment

Tonight I will conduct an experiment into a subject I hold very dear to me: alcohol tolerance. As can be deduced by anyone I know more than 5 minutes, I enjoy a bit of liquid libation from time to time(ha!). While this has mostly been a positive journey for me in its own dark ways, there are some downfalls. Yes yes, liver damage etc etc blah blah. I mean something important. I am talking of course about tolerance. Due in part to my excessive intake, and also partly because of my sasquatch- like stature, my own tolerance has grown very high over the years. This sometimes has its benefits. It’s nice to be the last one still standing after a heavy bout of boozing. It’s nice to know that I can start earlier and go longer than most men I meet. It gives me a smug satisfaction. What’s worth doing, is worth doing right. You should always try your best hahaha. But one negative has come from this: it takes so much booze to get me fucked up, it can be frustrating. One casualty of this is my dear friend beer. Though I am primarily a whisky drinker, I have always had a soft place in my heart for quality beer. I despise the mass produced horse piss like brew that 99% of Americans would call beer, and am very excited to see the rise of excellent microbrews into nationwide corporations (Sam Adams, Dogfish Head, New Belgium). The problem is, boys and girls, that it takes far too many beers to get me twisted. It has gotten to the point that I would rather just use beer as punctuation of good food, as a companion to quality BBQ and tex-mex grub. But, alas, my heart grows fond for the days when a six pack of beer ensured that I would be nice and tipsy. SO, tonight will be an experiment: Just how many beers will it take me to get nice and nasty. I am drinking a case of Yuengling that my girlfriend’s brother was kind enough to bring me from Pennsylvania, as they do not have this delicious concoction here in New Engalnd. I will chronicle the timeline, and we will find out together. Cheers…
6:47 pm: Have just finished a dinner of pad thai and dumplings, and have finished beer #4. Feel absolutely normal, just a bit relaxed. Still sober as a judge.
7:35: 6 beers down, a tad bit tipsy. Watching tv, and realizing I need to increase the amount of consumption
8:18 pm: beer number ten down. Getting a little twisted, still able to type and speak fine. Watching SNL reruns, and reading crap online. Starting to suspect that this will be harder than I thought, as even though I am only a bit buzzed, I feel very full of fluids.
9:20: Beer twelve done. Pretty tipsy, but very functional
9:33: def pretty twisted. Past the thhe point of safe driving or texting. So full, kinda dizzy. Beer 13 done
9:44: I want to go to a strip club
10:06: beer 14 down. Feelin pretty sleepy, but functioning ok. Eating some chips too. Almost out of yuengling
10:20: beer 16 gone. Tired, a bit lightheaded, but still very capable of reasonable decision making. I can feel the tendrils of sobriety creeping up my leg, and realize that it would take my shotgunning several beers over the next few minutes to maintain a decent buzz.

So, in conclusion, I am somewhat proud of my own resilience to the effects of beer, and enjoy it as I may, I know that it will never bring about the debauchery and absurdity that can be found in a delicious bottle of bourbon or scotch. I am heading to bed with somewhat of a buzz, but not to the point that it will affect me fucking my naked girlfriend in a few minutes…

cheers

ajs