Let me begin by saying that I’m a man who appreciates a good drink. And I don’t mean that in some sort of classy distinguished gentleman’s way, I mean that in a throw down, drag out, bare fisted, liquor binge kind of way.
The kind of way that involves pounding high gravity malt liquor, and sucking wine out of a plastic bag.
I’m a strict believer in throw and go (or puke and rally to some) and frankly if I didn’t have to be sober at work--I’m a substance abuse counselor--I would never blow anything below a 0.10.
So you can imagine how often I find myself trying to piece together previous night's events trying to map out the reason and location of my current state.
On this particular evening I found myself topless and covered in who knows how many people's sweat. With a beer bottle sticking out of the back of my pants surrounded by booty shaking women in hot pants while a transsexual screamed through a PA something related to sucking and blowing. And as the puzzle pieces of my evening started to fall into place like a dinner plate shattering in reverse. I smiled to myself, ‘Snake wine.’
It’s first recorded use took place in China around the year 771. Snake wine was originally made for it’s medicinal value, the belief that the essence of the snake would leak into the sake, or grain alcohol, and make the drinker healthier and more virile, sometimes even believed to cure aliments such as baldness. Due to the traditional use of the endangered cobra snake, it is now illegal to transport snake wine to the US. So you can imagine my excitement when a friend of mine slowly produced two bottles from his kitchen cabinet while an evil grin slid across his face.
