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When I was an undergraduate, some friends of mine invented a cocktail called the anaconda, originally to get talking to a barmaid. It was a whisky and pernod, and it became a tradition with us to drink one on your birthday, along with all the beer etc you would normally drink. I was extremely ill on my 21st - I remember trying to be sick in my sink afterwards (my guest said it was not polite to retch in front of them) and not being able to. This was because I'd already been sick, but I'd forgotten that, so decided to take an emetic. I had no salt to dissolve in water, but I remembered reading somewhere that you can use mustard and water instead, so I took a tablespoonful of Colman's mustard powder in water. Very very unpleasant. We never thought of a name for a whisky, pernod and mustard. Best wishes Matthew -----Original Message----- From: Douglas Clark <[log in to unmask]> To: Poetryetc <[log in to unmask]> Date: 20 August 2000 16:31 Subject: Poem: MIGs >MIGs > >I was sitting in the pub last Thursday night >And there were these two young men downing double vodkas. >They said their girl friends were cooking a meal >And they had to get back quick. >(One lad is to be married in Las Vegas in a week or two.) > >I told them they should be drinking whisky and Drambuie. >Just ordinary whisky. The coarseness of whisky >(apart from malt) is taken away by the sharpness >of Drambuie and the combination in a single glass >leaves you legless after two or three and is beautiful. >That's what finished me with Susan. >In Glasgow we called them MIGs thirty years ago >And I think Americans call them a Rusty Nail. > >The youngest of the lads came across to me >And said aren't you the poet?'. `Can you tell >me about the poem of the haggis.' So I explained >about the piper and the silver dish and recited >`Great chieftain of the pudding race.' Explained >it was Rabbie Burns and they could find it on >my Website. And I said I don't write poems >no more. I used to be a poet. > >I saw him this Sunday afternoon drinking orange >with Little Joe, the plasterer, who is waiting >for his first illegitimate grandchild to arrive. >Suffering. > >I never think of myself as a poet. It is >quite a shock to be approached. I never get >into magazines or suchlike. I only have >half-a-dozen books long ago. Perhaps I >should write a poem. > > > > >And the Lynx Website is at > > http://www.bath.ac.uk/~exxdgdc/lynx.html > >where there are three megabytes of poetic material with a set >of South West England poets and innumerable articles on poetry. >Enjoy. > > > %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%