Saturday, April 6, 2013

St. Patrick's Day a little late

We stayed in for St Patty's Day this year, mainly because I hate bars, and it's not like they have parades around here or anything. For whatever reason, we took pictures of the drinks as they were made. I can't remember the names or ingredients in most of these, so I'm going to have to wing it.


Ah, well this one is easy enough. The good ol' Carbomb. Just take a shot of Bailey's, drop it into a glass of Guiness, and chug. Very smooth, very tasty.


These were supposed to look like the Irish flag, but I think the colors are mixed up. I like to call it Black Flag, because this stuff will kill you. It's a combo of what appears to be Bailey's mixed with the blood of a virgin and chlorophyll. It's a very, very sweet drink, and you should probably only have one if you plan on imbibing safely for the rest of the night.

I'm pretty sure I had three.


Ah, the Caribbean Mind Smasher. Made from rum swished around in the mouths of great white sharks, mixed with a shot of Hypnotiq and lemon juice. We didn't use that much lemon, but it still ended up being sour enough to completely turn my face inside out. By the time we got to this point, my fingers and toes had gone numb, and it was a little harder to maintain a straight line.


I call these Cherry Forget-it-alls, because that's what will happen if you have too many of them. From the side, it looks like the cherries have sprouted little arms and legs, and are just floating around the top of the glass. Coincidentally, this is the same pose I assumed after I had one of these little guys. Best when served in a fancy little glass, because we're high class ya'll.


This is the last one I was able to take a shot of, mainly because I could barely hold the camera at this point. That also explains why this photo is a little blurry compared to the others. I'm going to deem this one the Radioactive Zombie. It has that putrescent, green look that I would expect to see if the dead were resurrected by a nuclear accident. I'm not even going to hazard a guess as to what actually went into the drink, but I'm sure there's a shot of evil in there somewhere.

Unfortunately, after that drink, things got really fuzzy. Much like a zombie, my motor functions diminished, and I made my way through the house by ping-ponging off the walls. Eventually the more advanced signs of alcohol inebriation appeared, and I had to make my way to the throne room, to pay homage to the cool, white, porcelain god. Thankfully Chelsea was there to help me through the ceremony.  It's nights like that, that lead to what I call my "drinking paradox". I don't drink that much or that often, so I don't have as high of a tolerance as other folks, which leads to me being sick. My getting sick leads me to not drink as much, so I don't have as high a tolerance and so on and so forth.

So let this be a lesson to you all; if you're going to drink, stay away from brightly colored drinks. Or, you could just do it in moderation. I guess that makes sense too.

2 comments:

  1. I fricking own a bar and never drink. I don't know what it is. I just always hated the taste.

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    Replies
    1. Yeah, I think I just like the stuff it's usually mixed with.

      You know, when I was growing up and used to see people drinking scotch on the rocks or shots of whiskey, I was under the assumption that they must be sweet. I couldn't have been more wrong about that. Blech.

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