#48 “The Evils of Eggnog”

Dear Don1001,

I’m listening to Christmas Carols on French Internet Radio, so in the multi-dimensional of world of theoretical physics that makes it Christmas, well at least in some point of space and time, so it’s time to get totally toasted. Usually upholding family traditions can be a pain in the ass but getting drunk on Christmas Eve and then carrying on that buzz on to Christmas Day may be a torch that needs to be handed to the next generation. On my Father’s side of the family, certain days like your Birthday, funerals (close loved ones), weddings (not so close loved ones, friends, Hell even casual acquaintances), Super Bowl, New Year’s Eve and Christmas Eve-Christmas are the appropriate times to get completely hammered. And far be it from me to stand in the way of time honored traditions like drinking huge amounts of high octane Bourbon mixed with eggs, sugar and heavy cream, which from where I came from meant one thing; Eggnog. Now usually the majority of this Christmas libation is a vile tasting substance that has no place in a glass or anywhere else, but when Eggnog is made correctly by a master craftsmen, this holiday tradition can be sublime. This seemingly innocent beverage when made with a deft hand, has an almost heavenly taste that is quite deceptive. The heavy cream, sugar and egg smooth the alcohol burn making Eggnog seem innocent, almost benign, but it’s not. With two or 3 glasses of Eggnog, your Aunt Edna becomes Glen Beck (the goofy version that cries all of the time) wanting back her country and wanting you to understand her fears for the future of mankind. Eight Eggnogs, you and Uncle Red are completely wrecked and impulsively decide to join the Polar Bear Club by chipping enough ice from the top of the family pool (that wasn’t drained for Winter) to take a swim on Christmas Eve. This results in Uncle Red (age 66) turning blue and almost dying.  And with a blood alcohol level of .30 or higher (Red had a head start with a large flask of Makers Mark) the man probably should have died. But Red didn’t die, so we wrapped him in a blanket and stuck Red by the fire then we got the man another Eggnog. Thus is the evil that Eggnog can and will bring. This Devil’s drink does not respect age, class or culture. Eggnog doesn’t choose its victims; its victims naively choose it. But real men don’t fear such things because tonight we are drinking Eggnog! Or whatever the closest thing you can make out of condensed heavy cream, powdered eggs, brown sugar and homemade “moonshine”. The quasi-Eggnog will probably taste like crap but  it won’t matter after you drink a couple of them and smoke a spliff of  Sour Diesel. Hopefully after six Eggnogs I won’t be looking for a pool. Merry Christmas, Donnie and have an Eggnog on me.

                                      Getting out the blender, Brother Gregory

You can see videos of these sage observations here: http://www.youtube.com/my_videos?feature=mhum
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