Ready, aim, fire! KERPLOW! That’s the sound of resistance to your sexy ass being obliterated. Oysters as you well know rev up the engine in your pantalones like filling up a Prius with rocket fuel or feeding a gerbil meth. And combine it with the sweet warm embrace of vodka and you are ready to fucking rumble, I first fell in love with oyster shooters in the Big Easy, New Orleans for you uninitiated. I downed three of them before charging out onto Bourbon Street where Mardi gras madness was on like a very horny Donkey Kong. The seething mass of frat boys and sorostitutes were no match for me. I was suited and booted with oyster power that made me stand out from the crowd of fools. I led one such sorority tramp away from the rest of the Greeks, pounded oyster shots with her and then vanished to my nearby hotel room where we banged each other’s brains out. Things got a little weird after when I forgot her name (Courtney perhaps?), but my libido made up for my apparent disrespect of this Southern Belle, I do declare!
Remove the raw oysters from the shells and scoop them into the shot glasses. Add the cilantro and lemon, fill up the glasses with vodka, and add a few dashes of Tabasco sauce. Bottoms up…literally!