Hands were shaken; shots were taken.

What an insane weekend! Excuse my hiatus, The Mister and I went to Ohio for a long, crazy weekend. It was something we both needed, especially The Mister as he’s been working a shit-ton lately.
As I posted briefly on Friday, we went to a South African wine dinner and it was awesome. The chef at the hotel researched South African food and according to Wino and Odd Duck (both of whom have spent much time there), he did a bang-up job.
Of course, after the wine dinner, we all went out drinking; however it was less refined and very uncivilized. You can dress us up, but…
Friday turned out the be full of First-Times for me and The Mister. We went to Wino and Capitall’s house around 8:00pm and it was a free fall from that point onward.
The first First-Time of the evening involved Absinthe –or as we began calling it: The Green Machine. Absinthe is not sold in the U.S. and if you make it through customs with it, you are a lucky bastard because it is not FDA approved. Wino managed to get through with two bottles from his past trip to South Africa.
Here’s how it works:
1 shot of Absinthe
1 shot of water
1 sugar cube
1 tumbler
1 fork (supposed to be a special flat slotted spoon, but a fork works)
Fire
Place the fork across the tumbler and
put the sugar cube across the fork’s slots.
[Thank god for pictures!]
Pour Absinthe over the sugar cube
and light it on fire.

After the sugar melts a bit,
pour the shot of water over it
to extinguish the flame.

Drop the cube into the tumbler
and mix it around.
and DRINK.

Certain kinds of Absinthe tastes like anise or black licorice. I hate anise, but agreed to do a shot if Capitall would show me her boobs. Hands were shaken and for the show I got, many shots were taken. Capitall has hott tits. I showed her mine, too and got the best compliment of the year, “Super, you’re actually a lot bigger than I expected! You’re very unassuming.”
Wahoo! Score one for Little Super.
I’m going to try to describe the sensation of Absinthe. Sweet motherless crap. The Green Machine causes a fucked-up I’ve never experienced before. I was freakin’ giddy; we all were. Although, none of us actually felt drunk, we were far from sober and it was just a light, happy consciousness. It was a clear and present drunkenness. It makes you feel something between being High and being Drunk, but without the wobbly, out-of-control feeling.
Unless you are Odd Duck, who was the most entertaining of the evening. I knew he played the blues but had no idea he had so many filthy songs in his repertoire. (Note the cut on the side of his nose; after post wine dinner drinking the night before, he went out and got in a water balloon fight -at 4:00 in the morning.)

We finished off one bottle and let loose playing music, laughing and –honestly it’s a little foggy because of what happened later, but I took many pictures.
Here is my favorite taken by Odd Duck:

After we said goodnight to Wino and Capitall, we went with Odd Duck to another friends house. Yes, it was one o’clock in the morning, but why not?
We arrived at Smiley’s and I pulled out my bag of goodies. Then Smiley gave us the tour of his house; it was complete with a mostly-sound-proof studio/music room. As all of us are musicians, we manned our posts and jammed for about two songs until Odd Duck broke a couple of stings. Smiley was on drums, Odd Duck on guitar, The Mister on bass and yours truly on a fabulous Fender Rhodes keyboard.
I’m actually a mallet keyboardist (think vibraphone or xylophone) and it’s been years since I played a piano. I think I did a pretty okay job and was really getting into jamming when Odd Duck stopped –he was down not one, but two strings. Four strings do not a guitar make. It was great fun while it lasted.
Here we are, post jam (note the crazy smoke! Whoosh.):

Around 3:30, The Mister and I went home to my father’s house and straight to bed where I had the most fantastical dreams of –I’m a bit embarrassed to say- sixsomes and music. However, my dream orgy only had six people; the next day, Wino told me he had a dream in which there was a party of about six-TY (60) and an orgy ensued. I did not mention my mere sixsome dream because it just paled in comparison.
I think it was the Absinthe.