Remember the good old days, when a guy who wanted to achieve the glorious state of “wide-awake drunk” had to horn an eight-ball of the dumb dust and drink a liter of Stoli? Expensive, illegal, yet oh so much fun.

Of course, that was when men were still men instead of women, only with testicles and more fashion sense. Popping some orange sunshine, drinking a case of beer and driving downtown to try to tip over a parked boxcar on Larimer Street was our idea of a relaxing Saturday evening with the fellas.

And then America underwent wussification. The old Denver warehouse district became LoDo, a hangout for art fruits, sushi-nibblers and wine-sippers. The Ell-Ess-Dizzy was supplanted by Ecstasy, immortalized by P.J. O’Rourke as “St. Joseph’s Baby Acid.”

And the nose whiskey/gullet whiskey cocktail? It went mainstream in a lamestream fashion with the debut of caffeinated booze-bombs like Four Loko, a pisspot of 12 percent alcohol, 156mg of caffeine and Christ knows what else that sounds like canned dumb-ass to me.

Thank God the FDA and the FTC have the peddlers of this weenie juice by their immature nutsacks with a downhill pull. Maybe the light-hitters who guzzle this swill will grow a hairy pair and sample a manly concoction like windowpane and Jack Daniels,  crystal meth and Schlitz Malt liquor or cocaine and whatever anybody else is buying because we spent all our money on the blow, dude. Really. Seriously.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to make myself an Irish coffee.