There are some people who, when they like something, like it too much. These people, when not lumped together under Asbergers, are called nerds.
I have a long history of nerdism, although the subjects of my nerdism may not be science fiction, super power or gaming related. Some of my passions over the years have included volcanology (I was young; I got over this when I started having dreams about being overtaken by a lava flow), Peanuts (I have all of them), Calvin & Hobbes (I have all of them), Monty Python (I have a lot of them), Bloom County (I have all of them), Edgar Allan Poe (I have the Complete Works), John Irving (I have read all of them), Blackadder (I have all of them in VHS plus a book with the complete scripts), and dogs (I would have all of them if I weren't married). Those close to me may be able to name more.
I am well aware of my nerdist tendencies. That is why I steer clear of cocktails. I love cocktails. Cocktails (with the exception of gin and tonics, which are some sort of dare) are sweet, punchy treats. I love cupcakes, too. But it is wise for me not to make them, because I feel more pain having to quit at two cupcakes than I would if I had never tasted one.
Wine I can sip and be comfortable stopping at two or three. But two or three cocktails seems like an appetizer for more cocktails. If I weren't such a lightweight, this wouldn't be such a bad night out every so often. Unfortunately, I am fun after two, sleepy after three, and comatose after three and a half.
And cocktail making is such an art form these days that I'm afraid I would get sucked in to the excitement of trying the next best one. I would have to try them all, which is a recipe for a trip to Serenity Lane. If you're asking yourself if that is a name for an alcohol rehab center or a funeral home, it really doesn't matter.
So I'll stick with my cheap wine. Unless you insist.