What are you drinking?

Gerard K H Love

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With all of the vacant houses around here there are many lemon trees with branches hanging to the ground full of lemons.
I have been making gallons of lemonade no vodka or tequila- not until I get a job. I'm stocking up on lemon juice and even the lemon zest. I found a grapefruit tree so I need to make a couple of gallons of grapefruit juice. yummy!
 

mjp

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Lemonade - jesus, I'm stupid. We have huge lemons in the front yard and I never use them, but I love lemonade...
 

Gerard K H Love

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Lemonade - jesus, I'm stupid. We have huge lemons in the front yard and I never use them, but I love lemonade...
It can be a lot of hard labor. They make nice power citrus juicers. It will make the kitchen smell great. Even without the vodka.
 

mjp

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It can be a lot of hard labor. They make nice power citrus juicers. It will make the kitchen smell great. Even without the vodka.
Well I went and pulled five grapefruit sized lemons off the tree tonight. Tomorrow I will juice them by hand on the glass juicer thingie.

Then what do you do, mix with water and sugar/honey?
 

Gerard K H Love

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Here are a couple of good recipes.
1.) Sunkist lemonade recipe.


2.) this one wants you to make a syrup out of the sugar-whatever.

I use less water less sugar . Less sugar if you plan to add vodka or tequila.

Grapefruit sized? That can't be good, taste them first. I had some made from lemons that may have been cross pollinated by an orange tree. It made terrible lemonade until we put the 100 proof vodka in it. Not tart enough.

This is so gay exchanging recipes on here. Bukowski will haunt us for this.
 

homeless mind

Over 500 posts
83 degrees. Cool breeze. Just back from an LAX game (an hour away - yuk). Ice cold bud light. Erasing the road dirt, and the loss. Burgers going on the grill.
 

mjp

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Grapefruit sized? That can't be good, taste them first. I had some made from lemons that may have been cross pollinated by an orange tree. It made terrible lemonade until we put the 100 proof vodka in it. Not tart enough.
I guess I'll find out soon, there's a batch chilling right now. The giant lemons tasted pretty sour, but I dunno. I can pick them when they are smaller. The tree has lemons on it all the time. It's a freak of nature. A very small orange tree out back is bearing large fruit too. Maybe the soil under this place is nuclear or something...

Once I taste the lemonade I'll pass along my recipe for tofu broccoli casserole. It's really much tastier than it sounds.
 

homeless mind

Over 500 posts
Homegrown fruit rocks.

We've got a whole bunch of crazy shit out back. Mangos are my favorite, if the squirrels and other rodents (I won't name) don't get 'em first. But the grapefruit is real old-fashioned Florida grapefruits. Big, juicy. And vodka has never tasted better than mixed with this natural pure sugar water.

The lemons, the limes, etc., there are a bunch of trees here, too. Not on my property, but dad gum, you are correct "” they are great for cooking. On top of fish, el al. I grab 'em from my neighbors; haven't bought one in years.

The only difference I find with the grapefruits here, the old-fashioned ones we have, is that they have lotsa seeds. All the new fangled ones have been genetically engineered to have less seeds. But the originals taste much better. We have friends who come over and take bags of 'em away.

Anyone who ever comes to Fl is welcome to fill up a bag or two. ;)

And if you bring vodka, I'll make the best V-Grapefruit you've ever had. :D
 
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hoochmonkey9

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tonight some beer and wine. hope I don't end up like this again:



yes, the picture is real, not staged. it's from this past Christmas. a friend of mine has a party every year where he provides the booze. the last thing I remember, I was arm wrestling a woman who was a computer scientist, but was giving that up to become a cop. it was in the kitchen. apparently when I won (no, I'm not proud of that), I smacked the counter, said I need another drink, stood up and immediately fell down. until my wife decided to drag me with the help of a friend to the back seat of a sober persons car.

for the record, I did not throw up. honest, ask my wife, she was amazed. not happy, but amazed. although I wasn't mobile until suppertime the following day.

some kind soul took a picture and sent it too me a few days ago. bless their little heart.
 

CRBSMILE

Over 500 posts
Well hooch, Christmas IS the most wonderful time of the year! Too drunk to puke, now that is tough stuff indeed! Hope you have a more gentle buzz this evening.
I am drinking a bottle of yellow tail, shiraz-cabernet. YUM:DCRB
 

scribbler

Over 100 posts
Well, I installed 7 smallish abstractions in a gallery today and, by god, there was a bar accross the street. How convenient. 45 minutes on art, an hour 45 bellied-up. I had 4 beers...all different brands, just for fun. was home by 3:30, more work to do, a little buzz in the head and a big blow-torch in the hand. As it should be.
 

Ninjerk

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Hooch: It just looks like you're crying against the wall. The wall with counter installed in it.
 

mjp

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You kids think getting drunk is so cool and grown up. Well I'm here to tell you, it's not cool. It's the opposite of cool! A drunk person has no friends, no self-respect, no concern for others, and probably most frightening of all - no direct line to Jesus Christ almighty. It's true!

"Oh, but Pastor Mike," I can hear you saying, "you told me that my lord and savior Jesus Christ Almighty was always by my side!" Yes, I did say that. And if I happened to touch you in a way that was at all inappropriate while saying it, I apologize. But children, Jesus does not abide a drunkard.

Let me say that again so you can hear it through your ipod eardrum deteriorators:

Jesus hates a drunkard!

I learned this lesson myself through painful personal experience. For I was once like you! Yes. I thought being drunk on wine coolers and clear malt beverages was the cat's meow. I would get together with my friends and drink several drinks, and like you, I felt more personable, funny and attractive. I thought, "Surely Jesus walks with me through these times, as I can see two sets of footprints in the vomit and debris." But I was as wrong as wrong can be.

One night I awoke from a drunken nap in a Greyhound bus station ladies restroom, with my pants around my ankles and my face pressed up against the base of a rusty metal toilet (ladies rooms are filthy, I tell you!). I knew I needed help because I could not stand up. The four Zimas that I had happily consumed had me on the ropes.

So I did what any of us would do - I called out HIS name. "Jesus," I wailed, "help me to stand and remove myself from this horrible predicament!" I waited for His response. And waited, and waited. Nothing. This confused me, so I pulled myself up to a listing, half-seated position, leaned against the metal stall door and cried again, "Dear Jesus! Please help me! I need you now more than I have ever needed you!"

And do you know what happened next?

A large black man entered the ladies room, forced open the door of the stall and dragged me - pants still around my ankles - out through the lobby and into the street. He literally threw me into the gutter, which was full of dirty slush, as it had snowed that morning, but the weather became unseasonably warm later in the day, causing the snow to melt into a foul, big city soup, and there I was, marinating in it.

Two people walked by and paused briefly to laugh at me. Laugh at me! They did not extend a helping hand or offer a kind word, they only pointed and walked away, still laughing. Finally a kind stranger took pity on me, helped me to my feet, pulled up my trousers and leaned me against the bus station wall. "Let me get you a cab," he said, his eyes red and glistening with compassion, "you wait here."

After what seemed like hours, a taxicab pulled up to the curb and I stumbled in. "9 West 7th Street," I slurred, "and step on it!" The driver sighed and drove me home. When we stopped in front of my building, I reached for my wallet to pay the fare, but my wallet was gone! I told the driver to wait while I went to my tiny, dingy apartment to collect his pay. He said he wanted "collateral," and took my expensive Members Only jacket and Chess King platform shoes and balled them up on the front seat. As soon as I stepped out of the cab, he sped off, and I was left alone and shivering, stumbling to the door of the building, where I discovered that my keys were also missing.

Why do I tell you this terrifying story? To frighten you onto a straight and narrow path? No. It is so you will know that one can dwell in the true depths of hell on earth, and still be redeemed.

The next afternoon, with the help of a friendly janitor, I finally made it into my apartment and immediately fell to my knees. "Lord!" I cried, "You have forsaken me!" And then, and only then, did he answer me. "No, my son," he said in a clear and loving voice in my head, "I was there, but you were being an asshole, so I just said, 'whatever,' and left you to your own devices."

And if that is not a lesson for the ages, and a compelling story to convince you to forsake hard drink, I don't know what is. I feel a great sense of relief telling it to you, and I pray that you do not ever suffer as I have.

Thank you.
 

Gerard K H Love

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You see, that's why you need to be careful drinking fresh squeezed lemonade with vodka(Or tequila). You write like that. You have to ease into it a little at a time.
 

mjp

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You see, that's why you need to be careful drinking fresh squeezed lemonade with vodka(Or tequila).
You have the perception of a hawk, my friend! Only it's Bombay gin. And the lemonade is great! Thanks for the pointers.
 

CRBSMILE

Over 500 posts
I think it's pretty funny that we've yet to hear back from hoochmonkey, maybe he went to church?CRB:)
 

hoochmonkey9

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sorry I'm late. I was rolling some drunk hipster at the Greyhound station.

what'd I miss?
 

homeless mind

Over 500 posts
Funny, But Have We All Met?

Funny, but have we all met?

You see, I was at this party the other night. It was Christmas. And my wife, well, she was a bit agitated about changing jobs. We've been arguing about it for weeks. She's going to give up a great paying job as a computer scientist, and go work as a cop. A cop!

Now don't get me wrong. I have nothing against cops. In fact, I work a second job as a rent-a-cop. So the boys in blue, well, they are jake with me. But my wife? A cop?

Anyway, we're at this party and some drunk walks over to her and mumbles, "Hey, I hear you're about to become a cop?" I want to deck the guy, but he's about to fall over anyway, so I bite my tongue. He then slurs at my wife (who, by the way, is all of four-feet tall, if you squeeze in an inch), "Well, let's get in on, Blue Lady! You look like Mini Me with hair."

While my wife may be short, she is a spitfire, and coherently responds, "Let's arm-wrestle, fucker."

Both of their elbows hit the countertop in the kitchen at the same time. But my wife's doesn't work. She's too short, you see. So drunk-boy makes some comment about it, and gets her a chair to stand on. Can you imagine?

What happened next is just pure fun. You see, the guy was beyond drunk: blotto. And his wife kept saying, No, PLEASE, NO! She's an inch or two away from being a midget!!!"

But he didn't care.

So after the chair was placed next to the countertop, elbows hit the table.

His eyes matched his speech: blurry.

My wife, well, let me tell you, she's a dynamo. In bed, on the tennis court "” and I won't tell you about our shower scenes, as I'm seven feet tall. Let me put it this way, there are many benefits to being tall and having a short wife.

So what happened? Hands clasped, and she slams his arm down and knocks over a few drinks. Gin and homemade lemonade. Next thing I know, he's on the floor, blacked out, and his wife is getting friends to put him in a car "” to cart his sorry ass away. But not until we all snap a few good pictures. We make it look like he's passed out on the wall.

The next day, my day off, which I decided to work at my second job (security for Greyhound), I show up and there's a problem in the bathroom. The Ladies' room. Some asshole, pants down below his ankles (and bottles of Zima strewn about "” who drinks that shit anyway?), keeps howling for Jesus. Being a christian man, and it's the day after Christmas, I decided to show kindness.

I grabbed him by the scruff of his ass and deposited him outside in the brown slush, the gutter.

He just kept claiming, "Im marinating, I'm marinating!"

I don't know why, but probably from still being pissed about the night before, and having to work...I took the fuckers wallet, all his money, then tossed it in the trash. Sonofabitch had $500 in it. Didn't figure that, after seeing his puked-on Members-Only jacket.

After work, I went to a hip store and bought my wife some platform shoes.

Hell, we were both feeling big.

And I was ready to take a shower.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was too much fun to pen.
Hope it's not too boring.
Anyone interested can write the next installment.
Or not, as it doesn't matter an iota to me.
 
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scribbler

Over 100 posts
Ha! great one P, helluv an improv.

I've never been a very good arm-wrestler - but I've usually won anyways by the virtue of an athletic advantage and many, many years of weight training. I do recall being tossed over a table by a fat janitor who was 30 years my senior one night. We were both well oiled, but I made it back to my feet to buy him more drinks for the rest of the night (the bet). I've taken some spills, some of them bled but I cant recall the last time I puked from the booze. Bad food,, now thats another matter...because I'm not afraid of any damn hole-in-the-wall; and have paid dearly for this indiscretion watching the chunks fly.

I have a twenty aimed at the beer store...a few for now, a few for later...so what else is new.
 

CRBSMILE

Over 500 posts
I won 2nd place in an arm wrestling contest in 5th grade. Man, that bitch that beat me was SCAREY!! Christ, that memory came from the dark reaches. I remember being so embarrased that I lost. I was a 'large' girl, but this broad out weighed me by 60 lbs. easy. She was in 6th grade. Thanks for the memories boys!CRB:)
 

David

Over 500 posts
Jesus, after reading these true religious confessional farragos, I really needed a drink! Time for the German white wine!
 

slimedog

Over 1000 posts
I used to work the front desk, Sunday afternoons at the local YMCA. And i heard someone had rented out the aerobic room, directly above, for a "religious service." I thought it might be quiet but no. it was a small but rabble rousing evangelistic sort of event -with foot stomping, music & loud proclamations into a microphone. The mothers bringing in their small children to sign up for first swim lessons & the look of fear and amazement on the face of the children was priceless.

Father Robinson was the young black preacher & he told me a story of redemption. A friend of his was a drug dealer and had spent his last cent on a purchase of drugs and was taking his wares in a cab ride. He gets to his destination, gets out and soon after realizes he's left all the drugs in the cab. He looks around, sees a church, walks in and gets set on the right path of the lord.

I kind of laugh at the story he's telling, you see I' m thinking of what road the cabbie took after finding the drugs.
 
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