Sunday, June 12, 2005


Road Trip Report #3.5: PARIS, 1890

[found in the recovered items folder on my laptop.]

[Special note to my brother: You are NOT to show this to mom. I MEAN IT.]

So, to the absinthe!

I'm not a connoisseur of this stuff (jeez, let's see if I can spell "connoisseur" in a couple of paragraphs), so I'm not gonna get into the whole ritual of preparing and drinking absinthe. Yes, I know it's the wrong kind of glass. And yes I know I'm supposed to pour distilled water or chilled water over special sugar cubes--absinthe sugar or something--in order to get the proper louching effect.

But I've got the basics in hand. Absinthe? Check. Slotted absinthe spoon? Check. Water and sugar cubes? Check and check.

Let's begin...



It's strong shit. By strong, I don't just mean alcohol (although this stuff is over 50 percent alcohol). I mean the taste. It's laced with anise, so if you hate licorice, you'll probably want to reach for something else. The anise is powerful. It needs to be, because it masks, and barely so, a powerful, fairly acrid, I dunno, undertaste. That would be the wormwood, the whamma-jamma, the stuff that put the stars in Van Gogh's Starry Night (and perhaps also drove him to cut his ear off). Makes your tongue burn, then tingle. Makes your throat tighten, then relax. Makes The Kid gag like a 5-year-old being given cough syrup for the first time.

The wormwood, I mean. Not the works of Vincent Van Gogh.

I'm sipping mine, pretending I'm in Paris, with a view of Montmartre, spouting all that Frenchy stuff Rurality left in her comments a few entries ago. Actually, I used to speak fluent French. When I was 6 we had a French exchange student live with us and we learned it at the grammar school I attended. Years passed, and now I can read it and understand it when it's spoken, but can speak only enough to get basic needs met. The exception to this situation is when I'm very tired. In general, I tend to talk in my sleep. When I'm very tired, I speak French. Wonder if I will tonight?

C-Dog sips his too. He likes it.

JC downs his in one gulp, looks at me and says, "Can I try it without all the water and sugar this time?"

Uh-oh. I'm empty...



JC takes his straight and he actually shakes his head as it goes down. This is a man who can drink Old Overcoat brand whiskey--the kind that raises blisters on boot leather--and not feel it.

I try this round with a little less water, but a little more sugar. Man, that wormwood is some nasty badness. I can see why it was once used as a vermicide: that is, an herbal medicine to get rid of parasitic infection, such as intestinal worms (hence the name). Or maybe it's so named because of the sinuous holes it leaves in brain tissue.

Hmm. Am pretty sure I have never used the words "vermicide" or "sinuous" before. All of a sudden I feel 15 percent more articulate.

Connoisseur. Connoisseur. Connoisseur.

C-Dog is still on his first drink. The Kid has been brushing his teeth since his first tentative mouthful. He does not like licorice and feels we have badly fooled him. JC is reaching for the bottle. I am downing the last of my drink. One shivering gulp.

Something is happening.



Been hour since first drink. Now on drink no. 3. Insteresting effects. Not halo, exactly, but hotel lights have certain quality. Tongue v. numb. Ears buzzing, but not ready to cut off yet. Feel fine. Really v. nice. However Seem to lost ability to use definite articles and possessivess.

C-dog asleep. Smiling. Kid calling home. Has things up nose so can't smell licorise.

Never call home when drinking. No good can come of it. Know whence I speak.

Conno isseur.

I just fine.


DrRink ##4our:

JC bumped is why above so mussed up. Cann't keep up pace with him. Hje is like Ernest Borgnine of drinking.

Hahahahaha. Meant Hemingway. Said Borgnine. That's pretty funny. Tell JC and thinks so too altho he won Oscar for Marty in, what, 1950s?

Borgnine. not JC. Or Hemongway.

Tongue like at dentist cxhair. Except novocaine doesn't work me. my superpower is I'm un-numbable. Why not somting else:? xray bison or sduperspeed. Like that.

Should givwe me absnthe next time I go ro get tooth filed.

Light thing is fucjking mazing. V. pretty. Like starry night.

Holy shit! Epiphany!


JC ssays its ctrl + s.

Oh. There.

Conmoisdeuir. Damn.


Drrink 55555



Weird monment clarity. If I

Shit. Its gone. Tonguwe too. numbynumb

Lights and sound shoulds not been happying like so but is and is fine. Like haiku in eyes but ears can fel too. World is light and not sduch bad thnigs nor hapoewn

Jc snorging wth dirnk in lap. Cdog and kid gone bed.

Je suiss les arc de triomphe!!

I wink

they use anise as a lure in fox traps. i once used in it sugar cookies instead of vanilla on accident. narsty stuff.

You poor drunken deluded fool.

Don't you know?

Only Sduperman has x-ray bison.

Sounds like a really great trip me laughing so hard I think I peed a little!

I guess I'll have to try some of the stuff, but I think I'll down some of those pills advertised that are guaranteed to prevent hangovers before!
That post was V. ... eloquent! Hahahaha! Love the warning to your brother, as if that isn't going to send him running to show her just that much faster.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have front-row seats for the deterioration and destruction of a human being, now in its early stages but sure to culminate in calamity. I've got popcorn and beer in hand.
Neil Gaiman called. He wants his schtick back.
oh god! This has been quite a road trip, huh? I hope you still have both of your ears!
man, i wish absinthe was legal over here. i should have taken more advantage of it back in london. comedy posting. i have emails a bit like this.
This explains bedding with the poor dog...Everyone should try this (at home or away).
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?