Oooh...ever tried drinking firewater?
Probably a pearoast, but what the hey...

T'was a balmy summer's evening and I was in my favourite watering hole, sinking back cheap Carlsberg like it was, well, coloured water.

The Czech bar manager comes up to me and asks "Do you want to try Czech firewater?"
Now, growing up with a French parent, I was quite used to having the odd sip of the French variety at various weddings etc., so I sadi "Why not..."

3 shots later, and several pints, I bade my farewells and went on my way home - this is where things get vague and I rely on third party accounts to fill in the details.

In the morning, a hungover snee prises his eyes open, groans and falls out of his bed. Looking around the room, I can't see my clothes - must have gotten undressed downstairs think I and wander down to check and put coffee on.

As I get down the stairs, I notice the front door wide open, my keys still in the lock and in clear view, 3 boxed computers I was sorting out for someone.

"Phew, that's a bit of luck." I think, closing the door.

Wandering into the lounge I still can't find my clothes, and, puzzled, wander into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Idly glancing into the back garden, I spot my (neatly folded) clothes on the bench.

Scratching my head, I retrieve them thinking I must have - for whatever reason - got undressed out there.

A few hours later, having bathed, shaved and made myself almost human again, I decide to go get 'hair of the dog'. This is when I bumped into a neighbour...

"Hi snee, I saw you walking home with your clothes folded in your arms last night." she said with a huge grin.

* CRINGE *

Alas for me, no hole opened up for me to disappear into, I stood there doing a great goldfish impression for a few seconds, then fled.

Now, anytime firewater is requested by friends in the Tudor Rose, this story is told with gusto, but hey, like I said - it was a hot summer evening so length wasn't an issue.
( snee held his breath since, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 7:59, 2 replies)

That stuff is the drink of dreams
the things we got up to in Prague when I was 17 because of that wonderful wonderful stuff have never been topped.
( Peej, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 9:35, closed)

It is lovely stuff once you get used to it
My mate's parents sent me over my own litre bottle (only half left now) 'cos they like me - when I first met them I was on crutches with a broken ankle, so they call me 'hoppy'. They've even tried setting me up with their daughter...
( snee held his breath since, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 10:39, closed)