vodka

Who says cotton candy’s just for kids?

My Fellow Inebriates,

You’d think there’d have been something interesting in the backpack my parents used throughout their day at the Pacific National Exhibition, but its contents were in fact so boring that no one bothered to clean it out. Still, it seemed sensible to check for some booze. Could they really have managed eleven hours of kiddy rides, farm animals, dog shows, and carny people without a flask? I didn’t think so.

But apparently they had drained the flask while walking the fairgrounds. Typical. I clambered right into the pack and found nothing but old popcorn and pink cotton candy. This latter item my dad immediately grabbed. He needed, I kid you not, something that wouldn’t require chewing for breakfast before a 10 a.m. root canal, and he thinks oatmeal is really gross. (I do too, but have you ever tried adding a tablespoon of Jack Daniel’s to your bowl? Try it.)

Most people, when they see cotton candy, do one or even several things:

  • They salivate, imagining a much yummier product than it actually turns out to be.
  • They wonder how many insects have gotten swirled up into the floss.
  • Their teeth hurt. They they wonder if they need a root canal.
  • They wonder which is worse: denying the kids a quintessential carnival treat, or letting them consume a bag of sugar, additives, and stray bugs.
  • They wonder how a bag of it can cost five freaking dollars.
  • They wish cotton candy contained at least a little alcohol.

Okay, maybe most PNE visitors don’t think that. For those who do, there’s a post-fair solution. Get the kiddies into bed and whip up a Cotton Candy Martini.

Now, you can’t get cotton candy just anywhere—at least not near LBHQ—so if you’re going to pull off this drink, you’ll have to visit a fair. Perhaps a relatively mainstream one like the PNE, or maybe a nasty little midway with multi-nippled circus geeks gobbling chicken heads and gropists throwing knives at each other. Either way, be sure to escape with some candy floss.

One other piece of foresight is necessary: have some sub-zero (sub-32 if you prefer) Smirnoff in your freezer. After a day of freaks with meter-long armpit hair offering you deep-fried Mars bars, you’ll want that vodka to be ready. And Smirnoff is only really tolerable when it’s near-freezing.

If, unlike my parents, you have any sort of respectable bar, you’ll have all the other items, or at least improvisational ones. Grenadine? Coca-Cola? Vanilla rim sugar? Sure…. Not at my house, perhaps, but I hope this stuff is at yours. Here’s the recipe:

  • 8 ounces of freezing Smirnoff vodka
  • 1 tablespoon of cola
  • 1 teaspoon of Grenadine
  • A chunk of cotton candy (about 2″ x 2″)
  • 2 small chunks of cotton candy for garnish
  • Vanilla cocktail candy rim sugar

Rim the glasses, load your martini shakers with ice, toss in the first four ingredients, and close tightly. Shake it like a carny wigging out on paint thinner. The cotton candy will disappear like a pickpocketed wallet. Strain the concoction into your sugared martini glasses and garnish with tufts of cotton candy. UNLESS your dad ate all of it for breakfast before having a root canal.

ASTROLIQUOR for August 24-30—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, you have so much confidence in your own mojo that you often wait for others to email or phone you. Take the initiative this week and call someone from so long ago that they’ve forgotten your typical bar behavior. Shut off your rational side and let your emotions guide you. Okay, so that’s hard when your emotions are usually angry…but you can loosen up with some Captain Morgan and Mountain Dew.

Taurus, you’ll hear from an old friend, but listen carefully and be skeptical. OMG, what do they want? Do they want money? Free drinks? Will they take you away from friends, family and work? Will the two of you go on a bender involving peach schnapps, white sambuca, and Midori melon? (In which case it’s okay, and the best day for it is Sunday.)

You didn’t intend to redecorate your house, Gemini, but that’s what you get when you mix up a tub of vodka and triple sec. Finish the job this week; your half-done alterations are unseemly, especially if you’ve accidentally taken out a wall. Whatever you’ve done, it’s enabled your neighbors to see you in a thong, and they don’t like it.

Now is the time to act, Cancer. Wavering hasn’t done you a lick of good, and the stars are willing to help you make good decisions this week. The key is to have a plan. You can’t just get pissed on tequila and then bring home a truckload of random electronics. Get pissed on Patron and Cointreau and lock yourself in the house.

Leo, whatever your ride is—bike, car, scooter—it’s going to need repairs this week. Be preemptive so the fix is small and inexpensive. Use the downtime to get drunk, staying out of traffic of course. Maybe you could invite a friend over and make some vodka martinis in your bathtub. Sunday’s best for me; just email me your address.

Get out of town for a few days, Virgo. You have some friends who are pissed off at you and, even though you don’t have any money, anyone who’d think of combining Bacardi 151, vanilla liqueur, and Crown Royal with Pepsi is creative enough to get by. Have fun knowing your absence will make your friends’ hearts fonder, or at least keep them from kicking your ass.

Libra, the stars are giving you a hall pass this week. Take it easy; break your more stressful engagements and plan some mellow activities instead. If you can raft along Friday through Monday on a vodka-drambuie river, you’ll get your groove back, and you might even meet a horny new friend.

Everything seems uphill this week, Scorpio. But compare now with five years ago. Chances are you didn’t have enough martinis then, but I bet you’re drinking more of them now. The great thing about aging is that we tend to drink more, and we have fewer friends to share the drinks with, which saves us money. The stars say the martinis should be vodka, but they are not always right.

Sagittarius, you’re surrounded by crud and odor, up to your neck in foul sweatsocks and filthy underwear. Rediscover that particular appliance that spins around (shudder). Put some clothes in it—especially the ones encrusted with Sheep-Dip-and-marsala vomit. Swish a cloth around; feed the toilet some Vim. You’ll feel better about your house and about yourself. Then you can begin afresh with another binge (the best day’s Sunday). Oh yeah, and no lottery tickets for you; spend the cash on booze.

The lottery’s a no-go for you, Capricorn. In fact, the week is generally unlucky, and you just don’t have the money to go nuts like you used to. Stay away from ostentatious types who rub their wealth in your face. Don’t let people pressure you to compete—at least not until October when your finances pick up slightly. For now you’re on a beer budget. Dig into your liquor cabinet and see if you can find some languishing rum. Toss it into the beer along with some gummy bears. That should put things in budgetary perspective.

Aquarius, take a fresh look at your world. Try to imagine everything is new—your job, your home, your relationships—see how much you really have. Life is good, but it’s not always easy to perceive. A simple mood adjustment might help. Good catalysts include Bailey’s Irish Cream and Southern Comfort.

Pisces, go through that cardboard box from the office. It sucks that you got fired again, but think about all the free time ahead. Especially if you’re in the northern hemisphere, this is an awesome time to get cut loose, and you can probably still afford a tequila bottle or two. Have a kick-ass party to celebrate your freedom. The stars say Sunday’s the best day, and it’s all the better because you don’t need to get up on Monday any more.

A mighty flame followeth a tiny spark (OMG!)


My Fellow Inebriates,

We are getting a new hot water tank today. (How much vodka is that worth?)

Apparently it is a top-of-the-line model that will save us a bundle. This is good, because the kids could really use more frequent baths (not that I’m one to talk).

The new unit replaces an old hot water heater that featured compelling Dantean imagery:

 

Clip Snark, this one’s for you.