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I’m scared bro, I’m scared
Alcohol. It can be fun and it can suck the life out of you. I’m sure for most of us, we have at one time or another over indulged when we should have held back. Some of us have probably had so much of a specific drink that just the smell or thought makes us sick to our stomach. Can you remember a time when this happened? Can you remember if you woke up in bed or next to the toilet? It is always fun until the next morning or if you had way too much then the nightmare begins that same night.
When I think of moments like this I think about Christmas 2001 and my run in with a jerk named Bacardi. I had recently moved to Florida and my family and I were going to spend the holidays with my cousins and my uncle. They were having two separate celebrations so we were going to head to my cousins first and then my uncles. It was about 10:30 in the morning and we were getting ready to head to my cousins house. I helped pack the car and I noticed a Mustang pull into the drive way. I approached the vehicle and there sat my cousin Emmett and my uncle.
“Why don’t you come with us? The rest of the family is going to meet at our place later anyway,” explained Emmett.
I stood there for a moment and decided I would go. I got in and noticed there was a case of Michelob Light in the back already. It was still early so I figured that the beer was for later on. When we arrived at my uncles home I brought the beer into the garage. I was going to take it inside when my uncle laughed and asked what I was doing. I told him I was taking it inside for later and he responded with,
“This is just the beginning. Pass me one.”
I froze for a moment and a rush of scared and excited feelings ran through my body. I’m sure I was about 98% scared and 2% excited because I had to pee. I sat with them and we drank while reflecting on old times and listening to Mexican music. We were having an excellent time and we tore up plenty of tamales. Before I knew it the case was gone. It was still early and I was relieved that we were done because I wasn’t sure that I could take much more. We sat around a little longer and my eyes popped wide open when another case emerged. Apparently there was a back up inside and we hit it again. This time it was just my cousin and I taking them down. My uncle had actually only had a few and was sobering up for the rest of the day.
The day went on and the festivities were great. Emmett and I had finished about half of the second case over several hours when he brought out a very large bottle of Bacardi that had been purchased in Mexico a while back. I wasn’t a huge fan of Bacardi but I thought, “What the hell.” We started swigging from the bottle and chasing it with beer. My uncle told us to be careful and we blew off his warnings because we thought we were badass. Toward the evening I accompanied my uncle and my cousin to a friends house where they were celebrating as well. This is where the nightmare began. I remember arriving at their friends trailer and several Mexican guys outside standing around a campfire. They were all dressed in patented button up dress shirts, nut hugger Wranglers, belt buckles, shit kicker cowboy boots, and cowboy hats. The music was blaring and the beer was flowing.
*Blackout*
The next thing I remember was being arm in arm with everyone, swaying back and forth, and singing.
*Blackout*
The next time I woke up I was sitting in my uncles truck with my head on the dash and I was looking down at the floor board.
“You ok cuz?”
I turned my head to the right and there was Emmett. We were both in the same position and he looked like hell. I’m sure I didn’t look any better and the world was spinning.
“Cuz I…I think I need to puke.”
“No bro! Not in here, you need to go outside.”
“I can’t move…I have to puke.”
There was nothing I could do. If I had moved I probably would have chucked right there. I took a deep breath and told my cousin to do what needed to be done.
“Well…maybe I can ho….rahhhhhhhhhhhhh”
There it went, all over the floor board. Tamales with a side of alcohol filled the truck and I patted his back. I told him it would be alright, I told him we would be ok but I was simply lying to myself because the aroma hit me next. The hot funk filled the truck and my mouth began to water. I couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Rahhhhhhhhhh, *deep breath* rahhhhhh”
“You ok cousin?”
“I’m scared bro, I’m scared.”
I wanted to cry as my body rejected the trash I had taken in. Christmas had turned into a nightmare and I had no one to blame but myself. We were in there for a while and you would think we would have moved from the vomit filled truck but we didn’t. I was praying that I would feel better when my uncle ripped the door open.
“WTF did you two do to my truck? I can’t believe….DAMN IT!”
He was a little mad at us and for a good reason too. We made it back to his place and my mom was there to take me home. I spent the rest of the night with my head in a garbage can and I had to drink water just to get the remaining alcohol out of my system. It was a bad night and since then I have never had Bacardi again. I don’t drink like that anymore and I’m happy, but I will never forget this day. Although I like telling the story, it makes me want to puke. If anything I can use this story as a scare tactic for when my children get older and ask about drinking.
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A Hot Tottie for the Impatient
Yesterday marked about a year since I have been sick. I have not had a cold, the flu, or anything. I consider myself lucky that I don’t get sick as much as most people. Getting sick once a year is awesome and if I had to thank one thing that has helped me, besides sheer will power, is the sweet sweet nectar of the Gods known as the Hot Tottie. This is an excellent drink and does wonders when ill. About a year ago I tried this as a way to battle whatever sickness I had and it worked. In the beginning I thought it was crazy. I mean, heat up Whiskey and drink it with lemon, tea, and honey? Nah, it could never work, but I was completely wrong. Like the majority of men, I too become a weak pathetic fool when ill. After laying around and not being able to do anything, I finally decided to make a Hot Tottie. If you Google a recipe for this drink you will find several thousand recipes and almost all of them require 20 minutes worth of simmering and such. I did what I had to but in all honesty I have no patience for something like this. Although I kept my cool for this I wanted to try something else that was a lot faster.
So here I am, typing away and drinking a Hot Tottie because my ass is sick. As I stated before, yesterday was my official sick day. I felt like crap. Switching from hot to cold body temperatures accompanied by body aches. I went out to the store and bought a bottle of Whiskey for a Hot Tottie and once I drank this sweet nectar I started feeling a lot better. I know, you’re probably thinking it was the booze but with this drink you don’t get an actual buzz from it. Instead the majority of the symptoms go away and fast. It’s a day later and I feel a million times better. I definitely recommend this drink for anyone who is feeling ill and if you’re like me you will need a recipe that targets the fact that your impatient. The following recipe is a quick fix for the Hot Tottie. Stay healthy this flu and general sickness season and enjoy the wonders of the Hot Tottie.
In a normal coffee cup add –
Half cup of water
Half cup of Whiskey
Microwave for 2 minutes
When finished add 1 tea bag of Chamomile tea
2 Splashes of Lemon Juice
1 1/2 Tablespoons of Honey
And stir (Optional) Add 2 Cinnamon sticks but the Honey should be enough for a sweet taste.
There you have it! A Hot Tottie for the Impatient. Make sure to drink it while hot for best results. Happy Drinking!
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The JCast RandomCast – An encounter with my son
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In the past I’ve written about my eldest son Richie. If you have read my previous posts then you know the story as to why I cannot say who I am to him. I will not go into detail but a couple weeks ago I was face-to-face with him. He looks like me and there is no way that anyone could say that he is not my son. From what I’ve heard he has my sense of humor and likes some of the same things I do. Some odd things have happened between us and it’s something I have to address. When he was either 9 or 10 he was Luigi for Halloween. When I was around that age I was Mario. When I was younger I was in scouts and he is in scouts now. It’s little things like that, that truly amaze me. We haven’t had that father-son relationship yet we are similar. There are more of the little things but I’ll save that for later. Below you’ll find a short podcast on my encounter with my eldest son Richie. If you’re out there mijo, I hope you listen to this. I love you…
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