Vodka as a medicine and vodka as a weapon, both have merit. While escaping an assassin on the streets of Moscow as I drove a stolen taxi cab, I poured vodka into a bullet wound on my shoulder. The liquor served both as a local anesthetic and disinfected the injury, a swell—yet quite painful—way to start the healing process. Later, while walking on a street in Russia, I was noticed by a police officer, so I spit vodka in his face to temporarily blind him and make my escape. Either way, keep some vodka around, especially in Russia.