My dad, who is not allowed to buy things any more, bought three things today:

(1)

Starfrit Hamburger Stacker

“I have never experienced a desire for such a thing,” said my mother, who apparently hand-fondles all the patties at LBHQ into perfect circles without assistance.

I concurred, albeit for other reasons. The price, for instance: $7. We could have had a really bad-ass night with some super-crappy wine for the price of the Starfrit Hamburger Stacker.

“What are hamburgers made of anyway?” I asked nervously.

“Oh, all kinds of things,” said my parents. “You name it.”

…

(2)

Hands-Free Magic Mesh Screen Door Cover

Well, what was my mother supposed to say to this one? “But I LIKE bugs in the house”?

This contraption will be a quick fix to the problem of bugs being inexplicably lured toward the smell of the burgers my mother will squish in the Starfrit thingie.

What do I think? Well, naturally no one asked. Being less…organic than the other LBHQ inhabitants, I don’t attract too much insect attention. Price: $20. What could we have bought at our nearby booze shop for $20? Well, OMG, read my blog, people.

…

(3)

TANQUERAY RANGPUR GIN

Ahhhh! My dad is awesome. Despite my allegiance to Julia Gale and her brand, BROKER’S, I’ve been dying to try this new Tanqueray offering. You see, Tanq is my second favorite, and I trust Tanqueray not to do crazy things with gin. They will not come out with, say, a marshmallow-flavored gin anytime soon. And even though I would pester my parents to buy marshmallow gin, I’m…glad that Tanq has the taste not to distill it.

So, OMG, my fellow inebriates, what the hell does “Rangpur” mean? It turns out the Ranpur is kind of like a lime. It’s a mutant lime—a lime that isn’t a lime but rather a lemon-mandarin hybrid that, weirdly enough, smells like lime! It’s amazing that such a thing could exist. But I figure if the Ogopogo exists, then why not a Rangpur?

Okay, so when I realized my dad had gone off-leash and bought things—including TANQUERAY RANGPUR GIN—I became rabid for a taste. Even a sniff. So, when 5:00 pm descended upon us, they cracked the bottle and gave me just that—a sniff, followed by a minuscule sip. I mean, by the time I actually tasted it, it had evaporated—that’s how small this sip was.

How was it?

OMG, people, it was delectable. Whatever these Rangpur things are, they belong in gin. Unlike cucumber, citrus fruit has definite business with gin, and with Tanqueray, it works. But sadly I’ve had too small a taste to work with. It’s just not enough for a fair review. Perhaps another Gin Shoot-Out is in order.

To be continued…