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Vodka

8 (42.1%)

Gin

1 (5.3%)

Rum

0 (0%)

Whiskey/Scotch/Bourbon

4 (21.1%)

Wine

1 (5.3%)

Some weird mixed drink you can only get from a Yeti in Tibet

1 (5.3%)

Write-In

1 (5.3%)

Why the hell would I care?

0 (0%)

Anything Out of a Stripper's Shoe

3 (15.8%)

Total Members Voted: 18

Voting closed: February 26, 2006, 11:29:00 pm

[V-Adore]

How about some Champale?

No idea if the stuff exists anymore (my guess: it doesn't), but love the ad campaign. "It's something else" 

"Kind of like champagne, but without the cost!" Hot damn! Sounds like just the thing for the "Let's Burn Our Graduate-School Rejection Letters" party! Shame about it almost certainly not existing anymore.

Upon Googling, apparently it's available under limited distribution by Pabst. Ho damn, I'm smelling a project.

[CortJstr]

Jebus. What won't Pabst buy? Natty Boh? Check. Champale? Check. Next up: Clamato and the Jones holiday line.

[misterqueue]

Jeezus, that reminds me of "The Champagne of Beers".

*ping*Memory Flash*ping*

DRINKING STORY TIME!

So, I was a freshman living in the most rundown "Prole" dorm at a cheeseball college right?  What was a lowly journalism major (I didn't get the degree in journalism mind you, saw through that pretty quick) to do but use a weekend to reboot the system as it were.  The problem is that the legal age here is of course 21.  Pish tosh, says I, the hot girl down the hall of course has an older boyfriend for just this reason right?  Let us see if I cannot use my nice guy charm to convince her to convince him (to convince them ((to convince (((&c)))))) to get us SOMEthing. 

Problem 2: Our system is based upon capitalistic values of supply and demand.  In this country that's backed up by little green pieces of paper with imaginary value.  (Seriously, try running down to Fort Knox and asking to trade in your bill for a dollar's worth of gold.  I wanna see that.)  We had very very little of these pieces of paper and weren't too keen about using the school's color photocopier again.

We pooled our resources together and came up with meagre figures.  A whole 6 bucks between us.  So, the old college "Drinkin' Math" (1 + 1 = 140!) we determined that each of us as lightweights at the time could get down on 1 40oz a piece.  The other 2 dollars were handed to said gentleman so he could "Get something nice for himself".   We were just those kind of philanthropists.

What was our request?

Well here's where the next problem comes.  See, this guy was a Farmboy of the highest caliber.  I think he was from rural Arkansas if I remember properly.  Not to diss on farmboys from Arkansas or anything, he was a nice guy; but the matrices we operated within were not necessarily convergent IF YUO KNOW WHAT I MEAN!! 

"What d'y'all want?"  he inquired.

"Just get us a 40 of something good.  I don't care.. something acceptable."  I replied; my view was that, being that he was doing us a favor and we hadn't an assload of money; I shouldn't be in the neighborhood of Pickiness.  I instead resided in the grove of Modesty.

"Aaaaright.. Ah'll be raht back" he said smiling and walking off.

Wyatt (the friend who was procurring said cheap beer swill with me) and I jumped with freshman glee.  It was indeed a hootenanny in the hizzy tonight so we thought.

That is, until the boy from Arkansas came back.  He sort of swaggered in the room with a sly naive grin.  "Here ya go fellas," he tossed us two brown bags and left.

We tore them open, rabid wildchildren finding a morsel of food in a bag that they don't understand.  I grimaced as I saw mine first.

"The fuck*ng BEAST?!  We got the BEAST?!" I cried out once I knew he was out of earshot.  Milwaukee's Best, known as "The Beast" for it's absolute swill-like nature was something I'd encountered only once before in a can.  At that time, I took one sip, spit until I hacked up the very core of my soul, and cursed Milwaukee till my dying day; and now, here I was... faced with 40 evil ounces of the stuff.

Wyatt and I stared at each other.  We opened the bottles and smelled them (a mistake).  Wincing at the old shoe smell of bad hops and worse intent we took a pull.  I cannot describe to you my absolute horror.  It was like drinking urine out of someone's old dirty sneaker.

We both gagged.  It was rough times, simply because we could not complain.  Someone did us a favor, we didn't specify what to get, and now we were stuck with a desperate need to induce "partytime" unnaturally and we had to do it through something that tasted like chopped up supine ass shot through an old garden hose.

"Fuck this," I said standing, "I'm getting a shot glass."

It is the only beer I've ever had to shoot folks.  Hell, I used to be able to drink Old Crow straight on occasion if it was that kind of party, so I can take it, but this... this was just uncalled for entirely.

So there we sat.  Two sad sacks.  Our personal party reduced to us grimacing and just angrily doing shot after shot of this horrible golden liquid.  We didn't say much.  Just stared off into space until we'd drained the damn things.  Then I paused for a moment, feeling awful and not nearly drunk enough for this kind of stuff. 

"Well... I'm gonna go" I said and headed back to my own dorm room.  I went to bed right after that.  It was poetic justice I guess.


I'm sorry for rambling message board.  I will be good next time I promise.

[AugustWest]

What was a lowly journalism major (I didn't get the degree in journalism mind you, saw through that pretty quick)

HEY!

[misterqueue]

HEY!

It is okay Attorney at Law.  You are a rad Internet friend.

You. Are. Rad.

[AugustWest]

Also, you are an incredible pussy, because the Beast is nowhere near as bad as you make it out to be.  It's pretty drinkable for a low-end beer, you snotty little ethanol snob.

If presented with this situation again, tell the guy you want a 40 of the BULL. 

The Schlitz Malt Liquor Bull

[AugustWest]

It is okay Attorney at Law.  You are a rad Internet friend.

You. Are. Rad.

Oh great, way to make me feel guilty for posting something mean. 

Sigh.

[lprkn]

Not only is Champale defunct, its brewery is now a brownfield.

[Hobot]

DRINKING STORY TIME!

Truly, that story is The Saddest Thing.

However, I used to get wasted on a mixture of whatever my friend could procure from her parents' liquor cabinet, kept in a Jones Soda bottle in her sock drawer for about a week, chased with Mountain Dew.

I was also dumb enough to drink some of said mixture (really, folks, it was anything and everything available in the cabinet) chased with water.  You may now feel free to laugh at my folly, because I threw up all night.  What made matters worse was that earlier that night, I had imbibed some red-coloured soda.  But worst of all was the fact that I threw up the red nastiness all over my parents' blue-and-white striped couch.

[misterqueue]

Truly, that story is The Saddest Thing.

However, I used to get wasted on a mixture of whatever my friend could procure from her parents' liquor cabinet, kept in a Jones Soda bottle in her sock drawer for about a week, chased with Mountain Dew.

I was also dumb enough to drink some of said mixture (really, folks, it was anything and everything available in the cabinet) chased with water.  You may now feel free to laugh at my folly, because I threw up all night.  What made matters worse was that earlier that night, I had imbibed some red-coloured soda.  But worst of all was the fact that I threw up the red nastiness all over my parents' blue-and-white striped couch.

The first time I got really and truly smashed.  I mean smashed till my name was Harold and I was dancing around in my boxers.  I was drunk on Hornsby's Cider.   It's like.. hell I dunno... apple beer.

The bottles are dark though, so you never actually SEE the cider.

Cut to like four hours later when I'm in the bathroom and expunging a viscous fluid the color of wine.  I freak the fuck out and run into the living room with the remnants of rinsing my mouth in the sink still stuck to my face.

I addressed all the guys in the living room with a horrified look on my face.

"Jeezus fuck*ng H. on a pogo stick guys.. I'm vomitting blood!  It was red!  Seriously!"

My friend Brian piped up from the couch where he was playing some video game, "Chill out Q, you drank hornsby's.  Hornsby's is red." 

"Oh..." I said, my worries wiped away like a newborns bottom after a diaper change, and sat down completely content.

"So... my turn yet?" I said.




In conclusion I feel your red vomitty pain and I am honored you would so much as share it.

[misterqueue]

Oh great, way to make me feel guilty for posting something mean. 

Sigh.

Hey, at least that means you're a good guy for feeling guilty.  Bobby wouldn't have even flinched.

[Doc]

I have only vomitted from drinking once. It involved a bottle of black douglas, my friend who kept playing the funeral song from the end of 'waking ned devine', a sudden urge to make peanut butter biscuits and someone mentioning right before I went to bed that I hadn't tried to beat my record for skulling a pint of guiness in a while. 
Suffice it to say I love my girlfriend very, very much and she still hates the smell of peanut butter.

[Carlos del Vaca]

Bourbon is good.  I will take Dr Peppers from anyone who says otherwise.

[slink]

I ended up with a bottle of some 16 year old speyside from the Society. Haven't tried it yet, but the comments said 'sugar puffs and fig pigs'. I'm not really sure what fig pigs are, so I'll be intrigued to find out. The one I really wanted was £100 a bottle, but had a list of flavour notes a mile long. It just sounded ludicrously complex, although also fairly amazing. One day...

[Doc]

I fear you not Sir Del Vaca!

I think I should probably try to find some decent bourbon now so I can find out if I actually like it or not but I suspect I wouldn't, I just tend to not like very sweet liquours. Even Baileys which is a favourite I can't stand to have too much of.