That 101 proof?
About 12 years ago I woke up in a pool of puke from Wild Turkey 101 on a Sunday morning. Worst hungover feeling ever. The last thing I remember from the night before is fingering some random latina with bigass titties at a dive bar in the Inland Empire that sold 50 cent beers. My cousin and just one other dude got me back to his house somehow (yes I was that guy that night, oh well).
No one remembers what happened to that hoodrat I finger blasted, but the next day when I woke up my right hand smelled like I fisted a dead homeless gypsy.
Anyways, I steam vac'd my mistake thanks to my cousin's steamer and then volunteered to go get some 40's to start that sunday off right. I got back with the 40's and some orange juice and literally used my stink fingers as swizzle sticks to mix up some brass monkeys. It started off as a joke but then everyone just kept having me mix their drinks with my nasty ass fingers. No one gave a shit, that's how hungover we were. It makes me sick to my stomach even thinking about it these days.