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I realize that it's taken me a week to get around to writing anything comprehensive about the May long weekend, but I've been super busy.
Okay, here was our idea:
We're too poor to buy real alcohol, so we're going to have a "shitty wine weedend" and try to get rid of the horrible wine my aunt made for me.
Turns out that JMcV's roommate makes his own wine and donates a bottle to our cause.
I get out to the campsite Saturday around 10pm and am promptly confronted with a smiling JMcV, proudly presenting a bottle of her best onion wine and declaring that I'm not allowed into the campsite unless I have a drink. So...naturally I do.
:shock:
There is nothing on earth that tastes fouler than this stuff. My shitty wine ain't got nuthin' on this swill. So, between the 6 of us, we decide to make it our mission to get rid of the whole bottle by the end of the trip.
Thea and JMcV each did a shot of onion wine mixed with blue coolaid. Not pretty. I got some pretty awesome pictures though...hehehe. I was much too smart to join in that bit-o-fun.
So, the next day, we manage to get our neighbour camper and his teenaged son and friend to try some. I had a brilliant idea to try cooking with it, so we put some in our marinade for the shishkebobs. That took care of about half the bottle. We invited our neighbour back to have some kebobs...but he never showed. Wonder why. They were delicious, and we quickly came to the conclusion that this was definately not a drinking wine, but it was beautiful to cook with.
Eventually, day turned to night and we were all sitting around the campfire when an interesting young man stumbled into our midst and enquired about buying a beer from us. JMcV said no...but here's this bottle of wine!!!
Well, we all had to see this so no one objected when he sat down with the remnants of the onion wine and began conversing with us. When asked where he was from, he informed us that his name was Jeremy and that he was a rolling stone. We all thought that was interesting.
So, our rolling stone guzzled the last of the onion wine and told us that it wasn't that bad. Apparantly he had licked a smouldering log and burned off his taste buds or something, because that is the ONLY way that stuff could possibly be "not that bad".
It took about two minutes to hit him and he quickly became incoherant and barely able to walk. We decided that we didn't want to get kicked out of our campsite because of all the crazy noise he was making, so we told him we were cashing in for the night. He was pretty good about leaving and that was that. For about half an hour.
We found our rolling stone surrounded by conservation officers and park officials. Apparantly he had rolled right into a ditch and wasn't doing very well. I felt kinda responsible for that...but then, we didn't MAKE him drink it, did we?
Back at the camp, we sat around speculating about how that onion wine tasted the second time, how long he'll be hung over for and whether or not he'll ever be able to eat onions again.
We packed up the next day and left our campsite happy and amused that we actually achieved our goal and not one drop of that horrible crap remained in the bottle thanks to our hero, Jeremy the rolling stone.
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This is my adopted goth fetus named "Cringe". Hooray fetus!
