Me and my friend Stephen were discoursing on scholarly matters the other night, when we came to the conclusion that Friday nights are boring. They always involve the same melange of drinking beer, joking with friends and staring at unobtainable women in a succession of increasingly dingy nightspots until it's time to stagger home alone.
This, we decided, HAD TO CHANGE. So we chose to make this Friday night into something of an experiment. It started when I idly said 'What do you think would happen if we drunk something that neither of us ever drink for the entire evening, like, I dunno, Gin?'
In that moment, the Friday Ginstravaganza was born. And the idea didn't really evolve at all, until Stephen suggested that he could definitely drink more gin than I could. So, here follows an hour-by-hour, blow-by-blow, Gordons-byGordons account of our Gin adventure. But first, the rules...
- Nothing must be drunk apart from Gin, with tonic if necessary. Ice may be appended, but only if both participants agree to the addition.
- Measures must be identical, and drunk at the same time and the same rate.
- Cigarettes may be smoked, because they make you look cool.
- The first person to drink a different drink, or refuse to drink any more Gin, will be declared the loser.
7PM
Gin drunk - 120ml per person (5 shots)
Gin drunk - 120ml per person (5 shots)
At 7 o' clock, I find myself at the end of cooking a rather delicious Chilli con Carne for Stephen, myself, and also Tom, who has chosen to act as an independant adjudicator.
The Gin has made me feel a little sleepy, as well as mildly indisposed towards Stephen. I'm beginning to resent his mindless trivial asides, as well as his excellent bone structure and refusal to help in the kitchen. I also notice that I have spelt Gin with a capital G throughout this article - something that I wish to continue to do.
I'm going to continue with half hourly reports. To summarise my 7pm feelings...
Drunken level 2/10, sleepyness level 3/10, delicious level 11/10.
The Gin has made me feel a little sleepy, as well as mildly indisposed towards Stephen. I'm beginning to resent his mindless trivial asides, as well as his excellent bone structure and refusal to help in the kitchen. I also notice that I have spelt Gin with a capital G throughout this article - something that I wish to continue to do.
I'm going to continue with half hourly reports. To summarise my 7pm feelings...
Drunken level 2/10, sleepyness level 3/10, delicious level 11/10.
7.42pm
Gin drunk - 155ml per person (just over 6 shots)
Gin drunk - 155ml per person (just over 6 shots)
Stephen is hilarious. He hasn't said anything funny, but he exudes an aroma of hilarious that is strangely infectious. Tom, in stark contrast, is rather dull and has said nothing of any note. Only one of these men has drunk Gin. Coincidence?
Query. Is Gin the best thing ever? Find out in roughly 3 hours.
Also. My Chilli. Was incredible. Seriously. I'm so talented I wish there was another one of me, so there were two Dans and both could congratulate each other on how talented the two of them truly are.
Query. Is Gin the best thing ever? Find out in roughly 3 hours.
Also. My Chilli. Was incredible. Seriously. I'm so talented I wish there was another one of me, so there were two Dans and both could congratulate each other on how talented the two of them truly are.
8.42pm
Gin drunk - 190ml (almost 8 shots worth)
Gin drunk - 190ml (almost 8 shots worth)
I got a little sidetracked for the last hour, because I was playing a popular football simulation against Stephen on the PS3. Stephen thinks he's so much better at football than I am, but actually I know for a fact that I am far more adept. The match ended 3-1 to him, but I don't believe that this was an accurate reflection of our performances. Also, he cheats. Oddly, we both hate football in real life.
He is hugging me now. Maybe because I shouted at him, maybe because he has sexual feelings for me - who can know for sure. He just kissed me on the head and then announced 'I'm just going for a dump. The door's open ok, so do not fucking walk in on me.' His words, not mine.
I'm not sure where the night is going to go from here. The Gin has brought out a lethargic, languid, mildly depressive side of my personality that I am unfamiliar with. I think that myself and Stephen are both keen on the idea of going out and having intimate relations with a consenting female adult (one each, I mean. We do not wish to share. Well, he wishes, but I do not wish). But then again, it could quite easily go the other way - with me deciding to go and walk in on Stephen having a dump.
He is hugging me now. Maybe because I shouted at him, maybe because he has sexual feelings for me - who can know for sure. He just kissed me on the head and then announced 'I'm just going for a dump. The door's open ok, so do not fucking walk in on me.' His words, not mine.
I'm not sure where the night is going to go from here. The Gin has brought out a lethargic, languid, mildly depressive side of my personality that I am unfamiliar with. I think that myself and Stephen are both keen on the idea of going out and having intimate relations with a consenting female adult (one each, I mean. We do not wish to share. Well, he wishes, but I do not wish). But then again, it could quite easily go the other way - with me deciding to go and walk in on Stephen having a dump.
9.23pm
Gin drunk -225ml (9 shots)
Gin drunk -225ml (9 shots)
Hello, Stephen here.
I'd like to point out that tonights idea has not only been quite pathetic buit it has also left me feeling a tiddlly drunk. For all of those out there who know me, you'll know i'm not much of writer like the boy Danny. (aka my password is angelfire for blogspot). So, I tend to write as i think. So, my feedback so far. Gin is fucking miserable and sharing this occasion with a miserable bastard who just played me the blues on the guitar is the top event of the nght. bravo Dan. Lets make it better from now on shall we...
Shut up Stephen. You will not hijack my blog. You are not a train robber. Or a blog robber. A blobber? No.
Gin is really depressing. Lets drink more.
I'd like to point out that tonights idea has not only been quite pathetic buit it has also left me feeling a tiddlly drunk. For all of those out there who know me, you'll know i'm not much of writer like the boy Danny. (aka my password is angelfire for blogspot). So, I tend to write as i think. So, my feedback so far. Gin is fucking miserable and sharing this occasion with a miserable bastard who just played me the blues on the guitar is the top event of the nght. bravo Dan. Lets make it better from now on shall we...
Shut up Stephen. You will not hijack my blog. You are not a train robber. Or a blog robber. A blobber? No.
Gin is really depressing. Lets drink more.
9.55pm
Din Grunk - 330ml (13 shots)
Din Grunk - 330ml (13 shots)
Right! That seems to have done the job! Stephen is thinking that he needs to change his jumper for a sexier model. I concur. I also suggest that he change his body for sexier model. Stephen suggests that Dan gets a life and doesn't sit around with a bad-tempered Irish guy, making him drink a drink that he doesn't like. Dan doesn't think that this comment was very funny and resents the finger power he used to type it.
The IT crowd is on very shortly, which I will enjoy. My face seems oddly warm. I am also amazed that I can still form such eloquent and well balanced sentences when at this moderately advanced state of inebriation. I guess that is what comes of being fairly gifted in a field that will get me no financial gain or social standing (drunken blogging). But I care not, for Mr Gordon is still almost half full and I will sup from his green teat a little more.
The IT crowd is on very shortly, which I will enjoy. My face seems oddly warm. I am also amazed that I can still form such eloquent and well balanced sentences when at this moderately advanced state of inebriation. I guess that is what comes of being fairly gifted in a field that will get me no financial gain or social standing (drunken blogging). But I care not, for Mr Gordon is still almost half full and I will sup from his green teat a little more.
10.38pm
Gin - 400mls apiece (that's 16 shots)
Gin - 400mls apiece (that's 16 shots)
Right. Yeah. Gin. It gets you drunk. This experiment is in danger of deteriorating into some kind of drunken 'let yourself go' fest. Let yourself go. That's the soundbite/jingle from some advert. I forget which, but I'm praying to god it's Tena Lady.
Ok, so the plan now is to head out into town where we will continue to drink the juniper juice, but at vastly inflated pub prices. hooray. Stephen, i have no feelings about either way. He's a man-shaped sack of friend, but I am a friend of his sack, so that's nonsense. Well done Dan. You excel.
Tom wants also to go out - he has returned fresh faced and moist-buttocked as ever. This keyboard is treacherous. There are gaps between the keys. GAPS! Imagine if you fell in... would you ever escape?
Tom informs me that I am wittering bollocks. If only I were located on the left of a world map, then I would be West Wittering bollocks. West Wittering is a place. But its flagship bollocks are owned by another man. This makes me sad.
Tom may have a point. I love him. And his odd face and beard and haircut and choice of clothes and personal hygeine malfunctions and usage of the phrase 'sprouting bollocks'. He's a great great man.
I'm going out now. Wish me luck (except its too late cos I'm posting this on Saturday. Posthumously. Or post-humorously, as Tom would have it. Cos he's such a fucking hilarity.)
Ok, so the plan now is to head out into town where we will continue to drink the juniper juice, but at vastly inflated pub prices. hooray. Stephen, i have no feelings about either way. He's a man-shaped sack of friend, but I am a friend of his sack, so that's nonsense. Well done Dan. You excel.
Tom wants also to go out - he has returned fresh faced and moist-buttocked as ever. This keyboard is treacherous. There are gaps between the keys. GAPS! Imagine if you fell in... would you ever escape?
Tom informs me that I am wittering bollocks. If only I were located on the left of a world map, then I would be West Wittering bollocks. West Wittering is a place. But its flagship bollocks are owned by another man. This makes me sad.
Tom may have a point. I love him. And his odd face and beard and haircut and choice of clothes and personal hygeine malfunctions and usage of the phrase 'sprouting bollocks'. He's a great great man.
I'm going out now. Wish me luck (except its too late cos I'm posting this on Saturday. Posthumously. Or post-humorously, as Tom would have it. Cos he's such a fucking hilarity.)
2.35am
Gin. lots. 600ml. I kept count. That's 24 shots.
Gin. lots. 600ml. I kept count. That's 24 shots.
I don;t want to see another glasss of Gin for all my days in china. Apparently, Steve is getting me another one. This is not to my approval.
Gin 635ml.
No. I will not be well. This is what I say. That took me about 2 minutes to write. I am not welll. Steve will take over...
Hello everyone! I'm still swimming in glory. i love G+t. what's the fuss about? jebus fucking creezy. Dan has now settled into a pile of absolue misreable dogshit of misery. Conclusion: Gin is fucking depressing. This is something many of us have already decided and many of us have already done but hey, we're noobies and we wanted to test it out. Try it out folks, i'm sure you already have and you're reading this and thinking "jezus you fcuking panzies, it's fuckin ggin and tonic!" Well to that i (we) say fuck you. It's a drepressing fucking drink. Dan is now on my bed (no) and drinking his remainders.....I think I'll beat him but...we'll see. Stay tuned. PUBLISH.
Actually, i've been given the glory of publishing this. However, we have a indpendant advisory consultant who now has is opinion....
*judge* oh, dear. we have a casualty. man down. can you guess who it is?..... was it worth asking? Of course, it's only our blogonomist. Can i just say this may have been the most depressing night of my life. I've heard stories of breaking up with exes (ex's, exs), hmm spelling to be decided on, career goals we could have made, how ladies prefer skinny jean guys over, you know, us duuuuuudes that like to spend our time writing blogs on our drinking habits, and not only stories but the sound of vomiting too.
As you can tell i've had a marvellous night. i hope you've had a marvellous morning/afternoon/evening/ night reading this.
toodles.
No. I will not be well. This is what I say. That took me about 2 minutes to write. I am not welll. Steve will take over...
Hello everyone! I'm still swimming in glory. i love G+t. what's the fuss about? jebus fucking creezy. Dan has now settled into a pile of absolue misreable dogshit of misery. Conclusion: Gin is fucking depressing. This is something many of us have already decided and many of us have already done but hey, we're noobies and we wanted to test it out. Try it out folks, i'm sure you already have and you're reading this and thinking "jezus you fcuking panzies, it's fuckin ggin and tonic!" Well to that i (we) say fuck you. It's a drepressing fucking drink. Dan is now on my bed (no) and drinking his remainders.....I think I'll beat him but...we'll see. Stay tuned. PUBLISH.
Actually, i've been given the glory of publishing this. However, we have a indpendant advisory consultant who now has is opinion....
*judge* oh, dear. we have a casualty. man down. can you guess who it is?..... was it worth asking? Of course, it's only our blogonomist. Can i just say this may have been the most depressing night of my life. I've heard stories of breaking up with exes (ex's, exs), hmm spelling to be decided on, career goals we could have made, how ladies prefer skinny jean guys over, you know, us duuuuuudes that like to spend our time writing blogs on our drinking habits, and not only stories but the sound of vomiting too.
As you can tell i've had a marvellous night. i hope you've had a marvellous morning/afternoon/evening/ night reading this.
toodles.
Dan's Final Thoughts
Right. It is yours truly back at the wheel, guiding this blog back home through difficult tides. So I may have expelled some of my innards. So, Steve may have proven he is the more talented drinker. So, Tom has decided upon going to bed rather than, you know, not. But I think we can SCIENTIFICALLY AND NOT RIDICULOUSLY conclude that Gin is, well, alcoholic. Yes.
I need to go and lay down in the recovery position for a while. The time is bang on 3am. I love you all very much.
I need to go and lay down in the recovery position for a while. The time is bang on 3am. I love you all very much.
