Erratica Reduex

So this Christmas, because it is a holy day at the end of the year, when the nights are longest, I decided to do something special for racerxmachina . I decided to do something I haven't had the courage to do in ages. I descended the 99 stone steps to the unlit cavern carved out of the living earth, I removed the ofuda, I broke the seals, and I opened the vault. With my left hand, I removed the recipe for EL GUAPO. With my right eye closed and wearing only red, I made one, this my signature drink.

And we survived to tell the tale of EL GUAPO.

There are skeptics out there, I know. "It's just a drink" they say "So what?" They can say that, they are safe in their own houses, with their whimsical and innocuous drinks such as martinis, mai tais and Long Island ice teas. They've never had an EL GUAPO in their hand, seen the earthy deep brown fluid inhabiting the glass staring back at them.

This is EL GUAPO: the mysterious drink that kills with it's love. The drink that Racerxmachina calls "The universal panty solvent. She says the ladies love EL GUAPO...they think. What they can remember of it anyway.

I share the secret recipe for EL GUAPOwith no one. Well, unless they ask me. Then I tell as much of the recipe as I can remember when sober.

To tell the truth, I'm normally not even completely sure what the recipe consists of. I just wake up in the morning to the smell of cinnamon and chocolate, and I notice the blender is pitted and it's gaskets need replacing.

I do know that a chemist once tried to analyze EL GUAPO; all we know of the aftermath is they never did locate his pants.

You do not have an EL GUAPO as a "Hair of the dog". Because if it were a hair it would be a hair twenty feet long weighing 300 pounds.

Anyway, the recipe (more of a list of suggestions and warnings, really) is back safe in it's vault. I have sworn off EL GUAPO for the next solar cycle. Except as a toast to departed friends, I may bring a small sample to Dundracon. Those who are brave may have a sip.

I'd blame Metafilter, but really, England is at fault if my diet goes out the window this weekend.

First they started off with the Royal society of Chemist's recipe for a perfect Yorkshire Pudding. 

Then they upped the stakes with the recipe for the best Toad in the Hole. 

Then the British Food trust chimed in with a recipe for Apple Batter Pudding,

And lastly, to wash it all down they had the British Standard Institution's Standard for Preparation of Tea.

Not a siingle green vegatable anywhere to be seen, but I'm still feeling peckish.   And damn it, it's still three hours till lunch. 

Thank you England, thank you so very, bloody much.