I think. See, that’s the problem with Colombia’s national liquor, aguardiente. You probably won’t remember. Like vodka, which in Russian is a play on the word “water” (it means something like “little, cute water”), aguardiente is also a play on words. It means “strong water.” However, they should probably just call it ass water because not only does it kind of taste like it (it tastes like an alcoholic black jellybean), but it will most definitely make you act like one.

Not that it’s happened to me, uh, I swear, but it’s most definitely happened to others. One guy here told me he drank so much of it one time that he lost feeling in his left leg. While recounting said event that he may or may not remember clearly, he was laughing hysterically as if he was telling me a really fine joke, such as “What does Snoop Dogg use on his laundry?”* And perhaps because this dude’s obviously been here too long, he added nonchalantly, “Hey, at least I didn’t go blind!” Because apparently it’s the 1920s here and that still happens.

Actually, that 1920s reference isn’t too far off. Colombia, or at least Medellín (since it’s the only place I’ve been so far), gives off a feeling of Wild West-iness. It’s not quite as crazy as Moscow was in the late 1990s (or so I hear; I only got there after Putin started dropping shirtless knowledge), but there’s certainly an air of anything-goes/watch-your-back/trust-no-one/hey-is-that-guy-taking-a-sh*t-in-public going on here.

It really makes me miss Russia…sigh…

But back to the point at hand. Aguardiente is the nectar of Satan. Period. Stay away from it if you know what’s good for you. And if you want to keep your sense of sight.

And now to the punchline of the Best. Joke. Ever: *BLEEEEEEEEEE-OTCH! LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!

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