The Cure for Scurvy & Other Summertime Cocktails

Posted: June 26, 2015 in Neverman How To
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Summer is the season when the closest star to Earth takes a shine to one respective half of the planet. For those people in the applicable hemisphere, who endearingly call this close star “the Sun” in the haphazard manner Earth people endear themselves to anything which burns, the temperature is increased due to the proximity of “the Sun”. This seasonal summer heat promotes madness in all mammals and increases the spread of dirty little things like bacteria and mosquito. How did our ancestors ever survive this heated season prior to the invention of Air Conditioning? Good question, dear reader. The answer is: Summertime Cocktails.

Allow me to elaborate…

A Cure for Lycanthropy

“I just can’t be with someone who I am not sure who they are from one moment to the next.” She told me, her tiger claws still clutching the beating heart she ripped out through my ass. It was my mistake. It was a season of the summer variety and I had been living in the jungles of the Amazon when I fell into the tiger trap belonging to this Peace Corps Volunteer. But she had a point! I was at the time suffering from MPLS aka Multiple Personality Lycanthrope Syndrome. Not only was I delusional in thinking I was gradually becoming a wolf, I was also confused on which werewolf I was shifting into. One moment I was a hairy-faced Provençal boy of the Napoleonic Period, the next I was a hunch-backed grandmother stalking rabbits along Wisconsin’s Bray Road. Clearly the jungle had muddied my sense of self.

I returned from South America to Florida requiring a close shave and a chemical bath to distance myself from a louse epidemic. It was in Orlando where I renewed my acquaintance with Doc Kelly, a local snake-oil salesman whose notoriety in elixirs and ointments made him the crown prince in hair-growth tonics and libido-enhancers. Fearing my Lycanthropy might endanger further romantic endeavors, I consulted Doc on the matter. He prescribed a cocktail which not only ridded me of my wolf-warging dreams, but cleared up a rash I had had since the Peace Corps conflagration.

The cocktail was a simple one, as Doc explained, “Lycanthropy is often a byproduct of the human psyche desiring a return to nature. In your case, you were likely getting nature overload by living in the Amazon. You basically felt yourself regressing into an animal. So my Lycanthrope cocktail is meant to balance out those natural cravings. It is five parts gin, three parts Italian Bellini peach soda, a lamb’s shake of a squeezed lime, a snort of orange marmalade and a money shot of Sriracha to exorcise the nasal cavity and balance out the sweetness.”

Cure for the Common Lycanthrope

Cure for the Common Lycanthrope

A Cure for Scurvy

I entered the medicine man’s abode, finding a lone bastard child learning to become bipedal whilst her father was busy in the kitchen. What’s cooking, Doc? “A cure for scurvy” he responded. Please do explain…

The cure, as suggested by Doc, “You take a liter of Zing-Zang Bloody-Mary mix and marinade a pound of grapefruit slices along with a quart of Bermudan dark rum for good measure. Make sure it is Bermudan. Bermuda is renown as the Atlantic half-way house; if you are going to trust a rum to cure scurvy, you must trust the Bermudans who’ve been curing scurvy since the Atlantaens setup shop in whichever prehistory you want to engage.” Nevertheless? “Nevertheless, combine it with a liter of white Cuban rum and let it sit in a dark refrigerator for a week. But don’t just let it sit, pepper it with a cup of sugar every day to increase its alcohol and keep the concoction fermenting. By the end of the week, the grapefruit will have jelled into the booze and you will be able to serve this over ice.”

“So it takes a week? This is not for the ‘scurvy & in a hurry’ crowd?”

“Well, no!” Doc Kelly was appalled. “This is for those proactive enough to anticipate scurvy.”

Foot-in-Mouth Disease

Do you mean “Foot & Mouth Disease”?

“Yes, of course, that too.” Doc Kelly ensured. “Modern physicians would prescribe cold liquids and pain killers. Sounds a lot like what I would prescribe to menstrual or menopausal women: chilled vodka.”



Chiggers. Fucking chiggers. They look like this {            } the sneaky bastards.

Doc Kelly 3I was once a child when my mother told me, “Do not pay any heed to your father’s words, dear son, for your father is afflicted with chiggers.” Little did I know. Until I knew.

“Same thing I prescribe for Fidgety Leg Syndrome.” Doc Kelly said. “The chigger parasites have already departed your body; they just left some pollution behind in their wake. The little tubes they used to suck your blood are irritating your skin and will continue to do so for the next three or fourth months.”

I was told meat-tenderizer helps eradicate the parasitic suck tubes…

“How did that work out for you?”

It didn’t.

“Then I would prescribe this: 5 fingers of gin, 3 swallows of a virgin girl’s spit (it shan’t be tainted by seed, y’know?), 3 ounces of fresh squeezed Key Lime juice, fresh basil and black sea salt, swirled around until well-mixed. Swish-swallow-repeat until fidgety leg is not so fidgety.”

My legs ain’t so fidgety. What of chiggers?

“That too.”

Fire & Ice Relationship Therapy

Doc Kelly had a faraway thousand-yard stare and I could tell he was perplexed by a lady. Indeed, he confided as much. Between he & she it was pure energetic passion one moment and distant indifference the next. Doc, a normally consistent dude, was brought to his knees, willing to offer his neck to the chopping block just to end the cycle of fire & ice. That is until he developed a charm to wear around his throat much like my Neverman neckbeard of invincibility. Doc’s charm was a simple elixir meant to paralyze the fight or flight instinct…

“Six parts Kirkland bulk vodka from Cost-Co, my own special herb-blend of galenicals, fresh-squeezed agave putty, a crushed Xanax consumed along with any meal plan from Taco-Bell. It really doesn’t matter which, just make sure there is a Yankee Candle blueberry scent aflame. The body will spend the next three days in a blissful digestive conundrum, you will not have time to think about the seductress and her fire & ice display.”

After the three days?

“If she is still there, playing her alternative hot & cold affections, just repeat part one until indifference sets in.”

Doc Kelly, in house physician at the Copper Rocket

Doc Kelly, in house physician at the Copper Rocket

Bronyism and Coulrophobia

“I hypothesize,” hypothesized Doc Kelly, “Broynism and Coulrophobia both result from a disruptions in the womb pre-birth.”

Broynism, of course, is the male obsession with the MATTEL toy figurines My Little Pony.

Coulrophobia is a fear of clowns.

While the former occurs in 1 out of every 80 American men, the latter occurs in 80 out of every one man. Perhaps my maths is wrong; nevertheless there is a societal problem when 1 out of every 80 dudes is fixated on My Little Pony. The fact that the cure is so readily available and suggested for clown-haters leads one to believe this is a copacetic universe after all.

The solution is simple: recreate the womb experience, just in a more pleasurable manner.

“If you do not have a hyperbolic chamber available, just find a Jacuzzi, a snorkel and an underwater radio to play human heart rhythms.” Doc Kelly suggested. “Before you take the dip, be sure to drink a cocktail made of six parts Kirkland bulk vodka from Cost-Co, my own special herb-blend of galenicals, fresh-squeezed agave putty, a crushed Xanax consumed along with any meal plan from Taco-Bell.”

Keep dipping into the hot-tub until cured.

Cure for Pareidoila

Pareidoila is the delusional reaction of finding meaning where there is none. It is a common feature in paranoiacs who tend to draw their own constellations of the stars based on their preset fears and anxieties. What was once Gemini is now Cerberus 3-headed-hound o’ Hell. What were formerly Mars abnormalities is now a face of a forgotten god. What was formerly a burnt piece of toast is now the face of Christ.

Fortunately, Doc Kelly had a cure for me, a cure for all paranoiacs….

“Fermented cabbage juice is easy enough to find at German restaurants. Just ask for their sauerkraut runoff. Or go to a Korean restaurant and ask for their kim-chi drippings. Then you just need 3 ounces of raw ginger to be taken rectally.”


“Have you ever chewed on raw ginger?” Doc asked. “I didn’t think so. A slice of SPAM muddled with mint, half a cup of fish oil and three ounces of unfiltered tap-water. Most importantly, we need three tablespoons of ‘white Sazon’.”

What was white Sazon?

“It’s like regular Sazon, just crystal white. It is a mystical spice in the Caribbean.”

Of course.

“Mix it all together and let it sit until you see a Moonbow.”

A moonbow? Yes, of course a moonbow. It is like a rainbow but occurs when the moon’s light reflects off the atmosphere in such a way that it creates a strange bow of light. Pretty much something you and I have never seen. And this white Sazon-flavored SPAM must be consumed during a moonbow in order to cure my paranoia?

“Ideally, yes.” Doc Kelly shrugged. “Otherwise, there is Xanax and Ambien.”

Doc Kelly & Vic Neverman searching for the elusive and mystical 'White Sazon' in Ybor City...

Doc Kelly & Vic Neverman searching for the elusive and mystical ‘White Sazon’ in Ybor City…


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