Jul
01
2011

The Drunkest I’ve Ever Been: The exciting conclusion of 2010

—Zip

I work at the One Union recording studio. One year, our annual Christmas party was to be followed by a recording session at 2am. Turns out we were connecting to Cape Town, South Africa to record “Ninja” from Die Antwoord. It was noon there.

The fancy shmancy restaurant we go to for dinner every year is Jardiniere, by the opera house. They pour drinks with a heavy hand! We all had some whiskey at the office before the party, and once there I indulged in my usual drinking of the oldest and most expensive scotch they have available (it’s on the boss’ tab!) The dinner went well, was really fun, and Jesus those scotches were huge! We ate scallops, steak, risotto, holy shit, tons of buttery french shit piled up on top of all that booze. I drank like an asshole even though I knew I had an overnight session coming up.
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Apr
27
2011

Food For Drunks: Cooking 101

—Christian

Sometimes you are drunk and there is no way to acquire food not made by your own hand. Maybe you left your debit card at the bar and then spent your last dollars plugging the receding window at the peepshow. Or maybe it’s 4:00am and you don’t live in New York, so the closest place that’s open 24-hours would require too sobering a walk to make it worth it. Perhaps you finally made it home where the booze is, so why would you want to leave again? Regardless of the reason, there comes a time in every Enthusiast’s life that they need to cook. More specifically, cook while less than sober.

The first step is to take an honest self-assessment of how drunk you really are. Can you stand without one hand on the counter? Good, let’s reach for the frying pan. No? Maybe get out a bowl and spoon instead. As I’m sure you know, food prep can be a pretty dangerous activity, even while sober, so your choice of meal should take into careful consideration how acute your motor skills are at the time.
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Apr
15
2011

Haiku for Drunks: Friday

—Josey

**
It’s Friday, Friday
The curse of Rebecca Black!
Sweet booze, heal my ears

**

Five o’clock feels far
Hands start to tremble at two
Make mine a double

**


Whiskey Thieves [ed. note: that’s a great fucking bar!] photo courtesy of Ariel Dovas, flickr.


Oct
29
2010

An Enthusiast’s guide to happy hour

—Josey

All Enthusiasts know that happy hour is a lie.

Not the happy part—the hour part. While billed as a way to decompress with friends and co-workers at the end of a challenging work week—or to remind yourself that there are good things in this world in the midst of a hellacious one—for Enthusiasts, happy hour is simply a financially-savvy method of kicking off a drinking marathon. So how can an Enthusiast make the most of her Friday happy twelve hours?
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Aug
12
2010

Team building

—Prez

We had this team-building thing coming up at work. I’m not going to bore you with the details—nor compromise any identities—but let’s just say it involved going out into a body of water on waterborne vessels of some type, propelled by yours truly and his cohorts. Naturally, “BOOZE!” popped into my head the second I heard about this. I set out immediately on a complicated mission with several objectives.

First and foremost, I had to seek out the fellow drinkers who were going on the trip. This posed no great challenge. I don’t know what it is (and that’s part of the magic), but something deeper than our mutual love for that sweet, fermented, nectar-of-the-gods binds all Enthusiasts. We flocked to each other like birds migrating south for the winter, and without any hesitation, immediately decided that we would be inebriated at said-event.
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Jul
20
2010

drinkwel field testing: Christian

—Christian

Health should be a priority, even for Enthusiasts. We all know that drinking has certain negative effects on the body. While long term use can be quite beneficial, in the short term, the consequences can be devastating. Such was the case after a recent Sunday birthday celebration at which consumption got a little out of hand a little too late in the day. Unsurprisingly, I woke up feeling less than amazing—far less. Fortunately, that day I received a package in the mail from The Alcohol Enthusiast’s first swag-provider, drinkwel.

But first some backstory. We found out about drinkwel by way of the Enthusiast friendly email magazine, UrbanDaddy. The article explained that there was finally a supplement designed specifically for drinkers. Further investigation on the drinkwel website revealed that the formula is intended to replenish the body with the vitamins and nutrients that alcohol tends to suck out of you in the process of filling you with the feeling of being the coolest person in the world (I guess something has to give).
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Jul
20
2010

drinkwel field testing: Josey

—Josey

The never-ending party is the most effective way to ensure no hangover. But once in a while it’s Sunday night and you realize you’re supposed to stagger through the doors of your workplace in mere morning hours, and that you should probably start sobering up. With visions of pounding temples and queasy bellies in our fuzzy brains we futilely chug glass after glass of water, swig Gatorade, and shakily nuke frozen pepperoni pies, praying for salvation in the form of grease, carbs, and electrolytes. Short of a pre-work Bloody Mary that could result in (depending on your job) certain termination should supervisors get wise, what’s a desperate drunk to do?

Mama’s greasy medicine.

Enthusiast HQ learned of drinkwel, a new and supposedly-hangover relieving multivitamin supplement from an UrbanDaddy email. We wrote the company in search of swag, and luckily, our plea resulted in free samples. Was I skeptical? Of course. The placebo effect is powerful. I needed a field test—and, another fantastic excuse to get insanely wasted for 48 hours.
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Jul
20
2010

drinkwel field testing: Jason

Jason

Housewarmings. Birthdays. Gay Pride. The World Cup. Tuesdays.

June was downright slutty in her offering up of reasons to imbibe to excess.

July gave it up quite a bit, too.

Being the Fernet fan that I am, I am often accosted by ridiculous hangovers. If hangovers were people, then I would be the guy that ran over their dog. wife. infant son. Because my hangovers are clearly angry at me. Tony Montana angry.

Don’t get this reference? You may have reached this page by mistake. You can find the Eclipse fanpage here.

So you can imagine my excitement when Christian wrote to me to tell me about this drinkwel stuff. I took a look at the ingredients and the FAQ and figured this was something I’d need to try. It had the usual suspects—lots of B vitamins (which are always good for you, post-enthusiasm). But B vitamins don’t cure or relieve hangovers. There’s some evidence that they shorten the duration of your hangover, which is good,  but in my experience, they’ve done nothing for the headaches, nausea, black eyes and concussions which are frequently the results of my overindulgence.
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Jul
07
2010

It’s for charity

 

There is one call to arms (and I am by no means implying there is ONLY one … but I am sure you will agree that this one has earned a particular gravitas over the years) that no Enthusiast can resist, regardless of their age, social standing, and even their level of comprehension of the greater cause. This reason for revelry, this justification for joviality—dare I say it, this Excuse for Enthusiasm (not that one needs an excuse)—has all but dragged people from their deathbeds.

So what is it? Only that inherent belief in the simple phrase: “it’s for charity.”

Sometimes there is the prerequisite of a small investment in the “charity of choice,” but sometimes there is not. All that is required of you is to show up, drink up and try not to throw up.

The traditional staging of these affairs opens with the arrival of a hoard of glamorous, young whipper-snappers, and a dappling of elegant, seasoned antiques at a venue quite unsuitable for those at either end of the age spectrum. This provokes a chorus of “oohs,” “aaahs,” and “wows” accompanied by a wave of theatrical expressions of surprise, wonderment and humble gratitude. Niceties over with, the focus turns to the proximity of the bar, and an enthusiastic urgency ensues. The hardened drinkers on the circuit hit the scotch, those tortured by an inner conflict between wanting to appear cultured while secretly wishing for an intravenous delivery system head for the gin mixers, and the floozies who skipped dinner giggle their way towards the champagne (or the closest thing on offer).

Some of these occasions even call for dancing in honor of charitable giving and this will inevitably be to a soundtrack of covers of the shockers your parents used to get their funk on to, and take place on a waxed wooden surface that is just aching to get its revenge on your stilettos; simultaneously offering you a view of the ceiling—while giving everyone else a view of your nether regions.

But dare you complain? No, it is for charity, and if that charity is asking you to party and imbibe, and party and imbibe … then a dedicated Enthusiast will follow that gospel.

As the evening wears on, however, and the open bar begins to claim it first victims; the illusion wears off, things disintegrate. Come home-time, the rag-bag crowd that stumbles out bears an uncanny resemblance to the crumpled, disheveled, sartorially oblivious exhibitionists seen ejected from an underage gathering on New Years.

This slithering descent from glittering superiority to infantile subservience can be blamed entirely on that simple phrase, “it’s for charity.”

I mean, if someone offers you a beverage in the name of Breast Cancer Research, who are you to turn down libations so loaded with altruism and generosity? If your very presence at the bar is going to lead to a breakthrough in genetic science, is it your decision as to how long to stay? Has vodka ever tasted better than when it is laced with pure, organic self-satisfaction?

And the best thing about benevolent drinking has to be the fact that no matter how late you show up to work the next day, how much like a distillery you may smell and how green a complexion you may have … a simple utterance of that invaluable phrase—the pained whisper of just four harmless little words, “it was for charity”—will instantly relieve you of any guilt, any remorse and any strenuous activities.

 
—Milla

Bottles photo courtesy of  de la Ronde, flickr.
Bucket photo courtesy of tray, flickr.