My boy Neal and I have ingested some crazy stuff over the years. When we tended bar at a certain nameless Mexican food chain (owned by an Italian family), we took our time tasting every tequila in the joint, including some in crusty old bottles that hadn't been cracked open in years. We drank bad beer and worse beer, and sometimes we drank stuff just because it had an odd color. When we got really bored, we'd look at the booze shelf and try to figure out the worst possible combination of liquors for a shot. (I once got a guy to puke from a shot containing Jager, mescal, everclear and Campari.)
Those days are long gone for me, but Neal still fears no food or drink, as evidenced below.
You are a whole chunk of awesome, my friend.