Commercial Time!

Seeing to my self that I was somewhat bored, Over the weekend I made a game. Only 1 rule to the game was important. Drink tequila till I was not bored anymore.
"Phenomenal, best idea ever" I mentally dialogued to myself in a British aristocrat accent. This shouldn't be hard a hard plan to enact at all.

After all, I was claimed once to be an accomplished drinker. I even have a shade of most alcohols on stock for just such whimsies. I don't wear that descriptive notion with pride though, I can't help to acknowledge that I've come a long way from getting tipsy after a few sips of a wine cooler. I was at one time about as stable as a sea sick passenger looking for relief while "drunk". These days it takes quite a bit more to phase me. Even when thoroughly plastered I'm lucid and in control.
Though there was even a period that so much as smelling a beer tended to make me nauseous and hung over the next day, but that is past me as well by virtue of experience. A smarter man might of just stopped drinking, but I digress.

I consumed the first shot. Onward I was, prize state of mind in site, to consuming the delicious Azul brand tequila- straight as it were, from the shot glass with but a afterthought of lime. To make it more of a challenge I set to taking a shot during commercial breaks. However my wife and I sat down to watch Battlestar Galactica on DVD. This made judging the "commercial break" period of consumption nebulous at times. I drank in spite of it to be sure.

Somewhere into the second 4 hour DVD I mentioned ruefully how I was described as being an accomplished drinker to my wife. Though at this time the deafening sloshing sounds of what was quite near an entire fresh bottle of tequila the size of a large wine bottle pooling, plus some, around in my brain was obscuring what was about to become very clear, God saw some irony.

A good drunk would have recognized the effects of sitting down has on one's inebriated state. I was not being a good drunk... or I was too drunk to come to my attention... the point is lost now; What was a cool controlled but obviously drunk state soon spiraled into a state of chaos the moment that I stood up. It was as if all the alcohol, patiently waiting to be absorbed by my liver in a calm orderly prossession suddenly jumped the railings and crashed right into the cognitive faculties.

• My speech functions were hit first. Not that I slur. Rather, I start talking about what I'm thinking about without filter. I insisted to my wife that the laundry was being overloaded.
• Motor functions went next in a gentle slope of degradation not unlike how a rock glides to the earth. Though I wouldn't realize it.
• Because critical thinking went immediately afterward. I acted with poise and definition comprehended and fueled by Azul tequila. To my mind I was a glorious bastion of everything right and awesome.
  
• I was falling over trying fold and hang my errant laundry - I have to carry out my nightly duties.
• "I should stand up." This made sense then. And that I tried like a blind man tangos.
  
• At one point drink more tequila, like adding fuel to a fire, sounded eloquently cognoscente and brilliant. -thankfully I did not make it back to the bottle.
• Dancing entered the equation at one point but, by God, that wasn't happening considering standing in one place resembled dueling with Jackie Chan.
• And with all great inebriations, dizzyness began to set in like the wailing bell of the porcelain throne. I was going to vomit. This was going to happen.

And it did. For what I think what was the first time in my personal history, I didn't even get to sleep before I began to return what I took. This would continue more or less till the next day.

... the taste of tequlia haunted the aftertaste of everything till almost 3 days later.

"Accomplished Drinker" my ass.