April 8, 2016
On the drunk ship lollywhore, We took a trip to the liquor store.
Never trust a ginger. Red heads are duplicitous and allies of Satan. Their freckles and hair color are unnatural so therefore should be feared. The same rules apply for drinks. Drinks should be clear, dark red or brown. But that scary cherry red from grenadine is the stuff of nightmares, or childhood innocence. That’s why I ordered a Shirley Temple at the bar. I wasn’t planning to get hammered or molested by a crazy redhead. She just managed to get me to drink 6 Shirley Temples before I realized there was enough vodka in them to kill a rhino. Before I could scream for help, the girl with the red ringlets in her hair had me in her apartment dressed me up in a sailor suit. I thought it was some nightmare caused by snacking too close to bedtime. But that was before I saw the YouTube clip of us singing a duet of “The Good Ship Lollypop”. For the record, I did not have sexual relations with that candy. But I did with the ginger hussy. The Slutty Temple made me do it!.
Total time: approximately 2 minutes
Projected cost: $6 (excluding vodka)
Eating Buddy: OMG PB&J !, LET’S BANG S’MORE, WHO DA MAC & CHEESE?, TUNA MELT INTO THE SHEETS.
Ingredients (per drink):
1. 1 splash of grenadine
2. 1 part vodka
3. 2 parts 7-Up
4. 1 handful of ice
5. 1 wedge of lime
First put ice in a glass and then pour the vodka and 7-Up in. Add a splash of grenadine so the drink gets red, squeeze a lime wedge and drop it the glass. Stir it all up and serve you innocent, you.
March 17, 2016
Get lucky like an Irishman in pub full of drunken tarts.
I felt sorry for Lucky the Leprechaun because those shithead kids wouldn’t share any Lucky Charms. How hard would it have been to hook the little guy up with a small bowl of that artificial flavored filth? Leave it up to us Americans to exploit and bastardize yet another cultural icon. You can hardly blame the half-pint of Guinness for turning to the sauce. At least we now have a symbol to blame all our mid-March misgivings on. We’ll give props to some forgotten Catholic Saint of Ireland, eat some processed potato product and indulge in whiskey and beer. Green is THE color and a perfect excuse to pinch the hot ass of that lass or lad not following the day’s chosen color palette. Green our drinks shall be whether you choose to pour food dye into your Guinness or try on this COOK TO BANG exclusive. It is sure to bring out the Lecherous Leprechaun in all of us. So how about it, you lovely lasses? Wanna set free the leprechaun in my pants? There’s a pot of gold at the base of my half rainbow.
Total time: approximately 3 minutes
Projected cost: approximately $15 (depending on price of the booze)
Eating Buddy: HO’S MAY BLOW-TATOES
Ingredients (per drink):
1. 1 shot of Sour Apple Pucker
2. 1 shot of vodka
3. Club soda
4. ¼ lime cut up and squeezed
5. 1 large handful of ice
Squeeze ¼ of a lime into the glass, dropping the remains into the glass after. Throw in a large handful of ice, and then pour in 1 shot of vodka and 1 shot of Sour Apple Pucker. Top each glass off with club soda and mix it all together. Drink up before that leprechaun finishes your bevy for you.
January 16, 2016
KABOOM! goes the inhibitions.
Fast cars! Exploding building! Gratuitous sex! Sounds like my kind of movie. But this ain’t a movie. This is real life. One guzzle of a fresh-squeezed greyhound and your life may become a grindhouse movie. I know what you’re thinking: “How can my life turn into some Tarantino fantasy?” Simple. In the blink of an eye. After your first gulp, you will find that your hunch about your neighbor harvesting cyborg alien eggs is totally correct. By your second drink, that Toyota you drive will transform into a muscle car with machine gun turrets. By the time you finish your tasty beverage, you and the hottest piece of ass shall be scantily clad firing bazookas at zombie Jehovah’s Witnesses. The only comfort in all the chaos is to seek carnal comforts with one another as the world comes to an end. Another greyhound? Read the rest of this entry »
December 23, 2015
So it’s Christmas time. You may need to bring something to your (or your significant other’s) family holiday party or perhaps you and a sexy someone have decided to do your own Christmas thang. It’s about that time to bust something homemade out to leave an outstanding impression. Make this homemade eggnog recipe you will just do that. If all goes to plan everyone will be too tanked to think of you as anything but a champ. Encourage the lot of them to drink up, be merry. Not merry yet? Have another glass of this naughty nog. After enough glasses of this creamy cocktail and they’d forgive you for banging the dog (do us all a favor and abstain from this). My first experiment with this drink happened during a frightening visit to the ex-Navy colonel father of a girl I was dating after college. She told me about his medals of valor, not to mention his collection of antique guns. This was a delicate situation that was easily defused by strong eggnog I threw together on a whim. By the end of the night Colonel Kill You In Your Sleep was crooning along to Bing Crosby Christmas carols and calling me “son.” The eggnog was like Kevlar and I was the drunken Baby Jesus. Read the rest of this entry »
November 6, 2015
Go ahead, drink up that mystical gypsy potion!
The sound of castanets and Flamenco guitar riffs echo through the streets. I see a momentary flash of a beautiful figure in a black dress sauntering towards, and then she’s gone. Carmen? Is that you again? It seems that every time I eat Spanish tapas and drink sangria she appears. That unattainable Spanish hard body has been haunting my subconscious ever since I first laid eyes on her in a bar in Valencia. There I was, the gringo in the corner of the Spanish nightclub sipping my first sangria. Carmen crossed the room towards me, took my glass and downed it, then led me onto the dance floor. She wrapped on leg around my hip and I melted. The filthy suggestions she breathed heavily into my ear in her native tongue sent my mind skitso. Carmen sent me for one last round of sangria. When I eagerly returned she had vanished. To this day I don’t know if she was real or a hallucination brought on by a sangria overdose. That is why I make sangria now. Perhaps Carmen will return or, at the very least, I can turn the woman I serve it to into Carmen…for the night. Read the rest of this entry »