Free Republic

The alcohol industry is forever foisting new “sensations” on the drinking public. They come and go. Designer vodkas flash and fade like hastily assembled boy bands; new beer genres wail for attention then spiral silently down the drain; strange liqueurs try to muscle their way into our shot glasses then scurry back to whatever faraway land they sprang from. It’s a crap shoot. But roll those dice they must, and for good reason. Who would have guessed wild-ass ideas like light beer and flavored vodka would have taken hold as they have? Who would have bet money that a medicinal...

It’s 1952 and Mel Johnson is hustling his dream. His audience is captive: the dozen businessmen, self-styled playboys and wealthy widows sit in a reserved club car of the Denver Zephyr, hurtling between Chicago and its namesake. Mel’s lanky frame, youthful face and nervous energy bely his 40 years—from ten paces you’d swear he was some goofy kid in his late-20s. Mel has spent the past hour getting the potential investors liquored up and it’s time to make his pitch. He has no charts, blueprints or prospectus to show them. What he does have are matchbooks, cocktail napkins and drink...

While wine snobs have blighted the earth for thousands of years (you can bet there was at least one guy curling his lip at the vintage of Jesus’ first and best miracle), beer snobbery is a relatively young art, especially in the U.S. This is because every beer in the country once tasted exactly the same. Oh sure, there were Bud lovers and MGD aficionados who would swear they could tell the difference, but if you gave them a blind taste test, you’d soon discover they’d just keep asking for another “test taste” until there wasn’t any beer left and...

“It’s like gambling somehow. You go out for a night of drinking and you don’t know where you’re going to end up the next day. It could work out good or it could be disastrous. It’s like the throw of the dice.” —Jim Morrison

"In other words, the booze is harder to get, but once you have it, the freedom to imbibe, without limit or shame, is greater in Iran than anywhere else on earth. Isfahan, Iran, remains the only city outside the United States where I have found myself blind-drunk at ten in the morning. There is no such thing as non-alcoholic beer in Iran. Forget AA."

This is a compilation of all four parts of "Hungover On Judge Judy" (as seen on the "Drinking Stories" forum), including witty quips, curses, profanity and lots of passive-aggressive taunts toward The Reader. The Drunks seemed to have enjoyed it, perhaps your readers might too. Part One AUTHOR'S NOTE: the following is entirely true except for the sh*t I made up. You know you are getting a matrimonial deal when you meet your future spouses' parents and they look down their aristocratic noses in their formal dining room at you and say "You, sir are not good enough for our...