unclehobart
New Member
Lets see.. April of 91. I woke up at 4 am to get in line to buy concert tickets for Yes. Went home to pack. Went to donate a pint of blood. A few hours parked at the airport. An endless flight to Munich, Germany wherein my rt eardrum exploded 3 times ... ergo, I got zilcho sleep. We landed in the middle of a freak spring snowstorm, found our hotel, toured the city for a bit ... and then we found the Hofbrau Haus ... THE drinking hall of the world. So there I am. A little ill, wounded, shy a pint of blood, jetlagged, been up for 36 hours ... and I start to chuck back the black brew. My dad says I drank like 10 liters of this powerful black beer that was as dark as Guinness. I was roasted and ended up at this table of Italians who were more roasted than I was and singing footie war chants. I barely made it back to the hotel. That night I tried to do a Jimi Hendrix while I slept. My brother dragged my butt into the shower and let the water pound me for about an hour. By dawn, I was in pure alcohol poisoning hell and as green as a hedge. I missed that days activities and was fairly unsteady until the following days brekkie. I should have known better.