written by the Bartender from the depths of Nicaragua
Believe that Nicaraguan moonshine is okay to drink – most of the time. Only a few people go blind, and that’s just because some mistakes were made in the distilling process. Here’s how you tell if it’s good moonshine: If the guy selling it to you isn’t blind, then it’s good; because the guy who’s selling it is usually drinking it too. Just know that moonshine is some powerful drink, and tastey too, especially with mangoes. Let me tell you about the mangoes.
You have not had a mango like a Nicaraguan mango. Imagine a mango as big as a bowling ball and sweeter than sin itself. To say that they’re plentiful here is an understatement. They fall out of the trees so regularly that nearly everyone has a story about how this one time a mango fell on so-and-so’s head and knocked him out, or this mango landed on my chicken and killed it, or one landed on my balls while I was sleeping in my hammock.
Even I have a mango story. I was sleeping in my hammock under a mango tree and I kept getting woken up by loud thumps. Those were softball-sized mangoes falling all around me. I ended up stringing up a tarp to get a little bit of protection, which was doubly good because it rained later.
I think the Nicaraguans are even sick of the mangoes, which was even better for me because I can eat at least three of the big ones a day without making myself sick. Throw a little moonshine down your throat and you got yourself a recipe for some serious fun. I won’t lie and say it won’t give you a hangover. It’s a two day hangover, but in the end it’s worth it because you get to meet some interesting people. Only a certain kind of person will let moonshine pass over their lips and down their throat.
First of all, this person can’t afford rum, but likes to drink heavily. Second of all, everyone who drinks moonshine knows that if you get the wrong batch you’ll go blind, so these people have no fear. Third of all, moonshine is strong and serves only one purpose: to get so drunk that you’ll forget all the pains and sorrows of being poor, so this kind of person is going to be ubullently happy and fun to drink with.
This one night I sat in the grass with Enoch and his friends and drank a bottle of moonshine and we bullshitted all night long. Enoch told me he walked on the moon once and had sex with a space goat. I told him I could run so fast that I could run on the water. He told me that he could knock an oxen down with his fists. I said I could do with my head. He said he could do it with his dick head. Every bullshit lie somebody told we’d all look at the bullshitter with half cocked heads and eyes glazed over, pass around the coke bottle filled with moonshine and follow it with something more outlandish. When I told Enoch that I once had sex with my president´s daughters he simply countered with "I remember this. I was next door fucking his wife." And we’d be rolling in the grass. Then Enoch says, pointing at one of the others, "He fucked his mule." Everyone was laughing so hard at this. Especially me, because it was so culturally off. Enoch assumes everyone owns farm animals. We just kept going like this until the moonshine was gone and then we passed out. I remember looking up at the moon and remebering how bright it was, and how easily I could see the Milky Way. I wrote on my arm "Nicaragua Moonshine." I thought it was something profound, but it just ended up being printed backwards on my face and chest because I slept on it. ENIHSNOOM AUGARACIN.