Do You Feel Lucky?

(and feel free to comment! My older posts are certainly no less relevant to the burning concerns of the day.)

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Puking? Try Creme Soda!

I was puking last Monday, and when I puke I like to hydrate with creme soda because - well, it's obvious. That shit's delicious, up or down. Plus the bubbles help, it's a proven fact. So does the sugary syrup in there - soothes and calms, and no acids to aggravate (unlike previous proven go-to 7 Up, which is now far less efficacious to the purpose since they spiked it with citric acid in order to call it 'natural' flavor). The carbonation gently releases the uncomfortable stomach vapors that would otherwise build, and keep building to the point of critical nausea, i.e., "bluuuueagh!" Naseua. Nasaeu? Naw. NAUsea. You knew what I meant. Critical nausea - but I had no creme soda.

Nothing like creme soda in the fridge at all! Nothing of any description in the fridge to answer the 3-alarm critical nausea crisis bell, but guess what was in there? One (1) bottle of champagne.


At the risk of seeming unnecessarily, jarringly celebratory - and I admit there were all kinds of cognitive dissonance going on while I was lying there all fluey and miserable, gently sipping from my tall, elegant flute of champagne - but I have to say. That champagne might've edged out my previous proven pukey go-to. Maybe creme soda's no longer the reigning nausea relief liquid champ?

This was the good stuff, too by the way! I don't recommend anybody treat their nausea with bad-quality champagne. That just sounds declasse, and frankly, you should consult your doctor if that's how you operate because you might just as well be buying your aspirin from a dude on the street. You get what you pay for, okay? If you want to feel better, use the better stuff. If people are looking for a recommendation, just PM me or e-mail. Wait, what the hell - I'll just tell you: Jansz of Tasmania. Premium Non-Vintage Rose.

The incident also inspired a song, called straightforwardly enough "From Now On Baby (We Puke Champagne)." It's a sweet (yet brut) number, epic yet pathetic, tormented yet celebratory and how we deal with it. Except in the song, the idea is not necessarily based on influenza.

And yes, sharp-eyed sticklers will note: "'Champagne?! Not from Tasmania!" Technically, quite right. There is no such thing as Tasmanian "Champagne." But you know what? When I'm feeling sick, it puts me in a foul mood. Foul enough even to piss off the chauvinistically protectionist French beverage industry!

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