In Amarillo day after a 500 mile ride, a buddy pulls out his hip flask that was burried in his saddle bag. It contained what used to be fine Wild Turkey, but was now hot 130 deg F fine Wild Turkey.
We each took a hit from the flask - tasted like hot diesel - smoooooth.
Except when he took a hit from the flask after seeing our reaction to the hot Wild Turkey, he started calling GEOOOOOOORGE and RAAAAAAAAALPH.
Yup - he had to puke.
To this day the place is still called "The Place Where George Lives" and have a good laugh about it again.