Mean son of a bitch. It sounded so soothing, it wasn’t. I’m such a gullible green horn.
I’ve not been drunk since. The addictive gene runs in my family. My father’s dad was a nasty, nasty drunk, legend has it he once beat a mule to death. Several of my dad’s siblings were alcoholic – my father refused to go there, I pretty much followed his suite. My mother’s mom as addicted not once, but twice to codeine, and what began with an ounce of brandy a night in between her bouts of codeine addiction became a problem in of itself. The addiction gene runs deep in my family.
To illustrate better my not too tall fascination with alcohol - I have had two buckets of margaritas (I do like margaritas) in my freezer. In, what? The last fifteen years. I bought the last one three years ago, I’ve yet to have one margarita out of it. Need more. I bought a FABULOUS case of Cranberry Wine from Old Coyote Winery. Awesome, expensive (for me) amazing stuff – I gave most of it away… as gifts. I think I have two bottles left… three years later.
And Kalhua Cali? Well it is my annual Christmas gift that I make. I use it for cough syrup. Hey, it’s really good.