I've Tasted All The Colors of The Rainbow...

Cheers to a stupid ass bet, and my inability to deny it...

Well, now this story is not nearly as long, or interesting, but still some how worthwhile...

Pink, Blue, Green, Yellow, Orange, and Purple. Yes, for reference, I know those aren't the actual colors of a rainbow. But, they made due. They made due for our purposes last evening.

Point of reference, if you're ever at a bar, and you happen to be the only one in your small group that is not in fact a bartender, it would be in your best interest to order your own drinks. Keep a strong grasp on your destiny, especially in matters like these. So, that's how it started. It seemed so innocent at first. I was at the bar with Jay, and we'd finally gotten our stools back, those which we've deemed ours after consistant abuse week in and week out. I shot a plus 8 on Golden Tee, but we were playing Pro Courses, so that didn't seem so horrible. And, to our right, or nearest to my stool, sat the yuppies. Early middleager, late 20's intrigued by their own little political banter. Amazingly enough, they were democrates, but that nice snooty elitest type. Now, I could usually take these people down with slighted comments and caustic remarks, but I was already a little drunk when we'd sat next to them. So, we engaged in minor conversation, and I did my best to hit on the gentlemen's girlfriend, it's all I could do to hold my own, and still be a bastard. If you couldn't deduct it on your own, I didn't really enjoy their company. Jay honestly didn't seem all that interested either, but sometimes you've got to take what you can get, and we didn't have much of a crowd to choose from. Now, I'd like to point out that McNamara's isn't the sort of place you can watch CNN at, so I had no idea about the Bin Laden tape until today. Either way, the elitests to my right started in on me about drinking Miller Lite. As if what I chose to drink were any indication of who I am as a man. These are the type of people that believe if you are able to pronounce a beer's name, you shouldn't drink it. Because Fraugenheimer Lager sounds all that appealing. Either way, I chucked caution to the wind, and let the lot of them choose.

Accordingly, their only prerequistes for such a task were that it were something "Fu-fu", pink, and contained atleast 3 liquors. Linda, the bartender at the moment, served me something serious. Something seriously pink. It was sweet and tart, and filled with liquor. It scorched down the back of my throat like someone light each sip individually a blaze. I'm not sure if someone pictured the challenge before it began, or if the rules we're made up as we went along, but Linda approached as the glass emptied, and asked, which color came next?

Blue, blue came next. I don't know what it consisted of, but it had much of the same qualities as it's pink predecessor. This is where the rainbow theme seemed to stem from. I knew at this point I was in some trouble, I guess I could've assumed the consequence of these actions, but I rather have just roll with it. I don't know if you've heard this therory or not, but I guess alcohol is capable of impairing judgement.

Blue went down a little smoother, or faster, or made less of an impression on me. I took Green on like it was a young catholic school girl. For all rational sake we'll call that a slight lapse in judgement. The first gulp of green slapped me like a bitch then said degrading things about my mother. I litterally began to choke, and thought I was going to share the multi-colored wonderment my stomache held with all of the bar's population. To say it was sour, Sour isn't capable of expressing how rough this was. My throat tried to close, to protect my body from this absinthe allusion, but my will wouldn't let it. Check that, we'll call it ego over will, or something of the sort. Not that there was anyone worth impressing at the bar, but when the tender lays down the gauntlet, you've got to step up. So, green went down slow and painful, bitter and demented. Next came... Yellow.

Yellow was good, yellow was nice, yellow was basically all red bull, yellow pulled me back into the game. Red Bull is popular for good reason. I grabs hold of your body, and straps in tight. It holds you steady, and keeps you straight. Its been called liquid cocaine for good reason, it's rumored to have many of the same qualities. I could imagine it to be litterally the liquid incarnation of cocaine, I mean, it tastes like chemicals, that's really it. There is probably not a single organic substance to be found amongst it's ingredients lablel. I hear there is actually a ban of carbon based materials within a one mile radius of the factory. Either way, yellow went down pretty quick, and inspired me to finish this marathon.

As much as yellow picked me up, orange put me down twice as hard. Mindi came on to the scene moments before orange was announced. I don't know if it was the catholic school girl outfit, which might I add is a fine Halloween costume, as well as exceptionally sluttly, both which I enjoy. Now, I think orange might have been her way of punishing me. See, in my drunken stooper I wasn't making my normal effort to disguise the titty stare i've perfected over the years. Not that someone in a bustier can really take offense to someone staring at what they're laying out on a pedestal, especially in a low brow bar. As it were, orange wasn't all that orange. Orange was sort of dark and dingy, like a brownish orange, full of ill will. It tasted of whiskey, massive ammounts of whiskey... Every sip tasted and felt like a kick to my already heavily churning stomache. I'm not afraid to admit that I wasn't without help with this one, Jay took a few heavy hits to help with the load.

After a little discussion in the back room of the bar, Purple was delivered. Finally a little empathy for my broken dreams, it was purple, it was really purple, but didn't seem to include any alcohol. It had a little fizz to it, and took me a little while to complete, but eventually I took it down. Jay ordered me some water, and when that subsided, we were off. I was struggling. The red bull did well to keep me relatively conscious, but physically I was in shambles.

Finally we were home, and I was able to let go, let loose, and let the liquor take hold. It swamped through my veins, and rustled my thoughts into one distracted consciousness. I couldn't hold on any longer, I fell off the couch, and Jay told me it was time to let it all go. So, to the bathroom I went. We all knows what comes next. Theres no need to describe it, really there isn't. Though, I will tell you, when mushed together all the colors of the rainbow come out brown and sort of chunky...

Well hell, I guess I did describe it and all. Either way, i've got to get a shower because the liquor is sweating out of my pores. Not to mention of course, that I've got to get ready to do it all again in less than an hour.

Rys4K

p.s.- In this crazy world, nothing is funnier than a terrorist in a turbin mocking an asshole in office for reading a children's book about a goat...