"Sex kettle!"
25/2/13 21:17![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bronze_ribbonsSix or seven years ago, a friend at church gave me a bottle of Sex Vodka (long story). After my big sister gave me a bagful of Meyer lemons from the tree behind her office on New Year's Day, I decided to use make an infusion with some of them and the pint of Sex still in our basement (another long story).
That wasn't enough to cover the lemons, so I reached for one of the bottles of Zivania said sister's ex-husband had given to us the night before we left Cyprus. Having tasted the stuff, and being of the opinion that he'd tasted mellower moonshine (aka the kind where the fumes eat holes in the Mason jar lids), the BYM bellowed, "Oh, hell, NO!" and pointed to a bottle of Ketel instead.
That was more than a month ago. I'd forgotten about the label I put on the jar until the BYM started chanting what sounded like "Sex kettle!" ten minutes ago.
(There's no point to this story. I just wanted to get it down because I'm pretty sure my subconscious will come up with a weird, hot riff on it around 3 a.m., so when I stumble downstairs at 4 a.m. to scribble that down, I can trace it back to this instead of wondering what the heck it smoked when I wasn't paying attention.)
That wasn't enough to cover the lemons, so I reached for one of the bottles of Zivania said sister's ex-husband had given to us the night before we left Cyprus. Having tasted the stuff, and being of the opinion that he'd tasted mellower moonshine (aka the kind where the fumes eat holes in the Mason jar lids), the BYM bellowed, "Oh, hell, NO!" and pointed to a bottle of Ketel instead.
That was more than a month ago. I'd forgotten about the label I put on the jar until the BYM started chanting what sounded like "Sex kettle!" ten minutes ago.
(There's no point to this story. I just wanted to get it down because I'm pretty sure my subconscious will come up with a weird, hot riff on it around 3 a.m., so when I stumble downstairs at 4 a.m. to scribble that down, I can trace it back to this instead of wondering what the heck it smoked when I wasn't paying attention.)
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