Well, Daryl and I (and a bunch of friends) had our moonshine date. It was during the episode titled…sniff…”Alone.”
Knife in eye = 1 shot
Head lopped off= 2 shots.
Each time Beth said something about how good people are = 3 shots. [Note: We quickly abandoned this one; otherwise we would’ve been out cold in about five minutes].
I won’t lie: Our moonshine was frilly girly stuff, and although it was strong, it was smooth and spicy. I’m sure it wasn’t anything like the turpentine Bethy drank out of a Bell jar.
It sure made watching, er, int’restin’, though. We were fully prepared to leave our spouses when Daryl asked his little farmer’s daughter to sing him to sleep, though his little vampiric sleeping-in-a-coffin thing made us a little nervous…
…as did Beth’s loud piano playing. She sure was quick last week to shush Mr. Dixon when he raised his voice a bit complaining about his lack of a pet pony growing up; yet, somehow this week pounding on the keys was ok?
And I think I blacked out for a spell when Pookie collapsed with fatigue and grief…at a set of crossroads, no less. On the wrong side of the tracks. I should’ve been there to soothe his soul. Moonshine in hand…
Anyhow, remember in “Still” when Beth is downing the booze and Daryl warns her to drink lots of water?
Man, I shoulda listened to him, there. Although the stuff we slurped isn’t that of hillbilly lore, it WAS strong. Very. My skull is already throbbing with a headache of epic proportions. But I ain’t never drank no moonshine afore, and this here blog’s all ’bout “firsts.” So it’s all good…yes, all verrrry…ZZZZZZZzzzzzzz.
Each day of 2014, I’m
forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.