QUIRKY COCKTAILS FOR CURIOUS FOLK
Or, drinks that would dazzle a dunderhead
By Theolonius McTavish, an irksome Irish inwit with a nose for naughty names, an ear for merry monikers, an eye for pedantic pieces of piffle, and a twisted tongue that enjoys a tankard of titillation, “An Irish Kiss”, or a “Blarney Stone Sip” to sustain his unique form of insanity.
Cocktails are designed fill in time while waiting for some fetching bit of eye-candy to stroll by as much as to whet a whistle.
Care however must be exercised in selecting just the appropriate aperitif to fit the occasion. After all, one doesn't want to appear being a klutz when it comes to choosing a cocktail.
For example, if you’re not a cowpoke with clean boots, it’s not a wise idea to order “42 Flying Mules”, a “Broken Spur”, or a “Buffalo Chip” unless of course you’ve been invited to drop a wad of cash into the hat at a delightfully dull Democratic Party fundraising event.
On the other hand, if you’re invited to attend a Republican Party fundraiser sponsored by the religious right, you had better think twice about sneaking a surreptitious shot of “Elephant Lips”, “Easy Action” or an “Extra Fuzzy Navel” (without the President’s permission). No, this is not the time for “Pink Elephants on Parade” either!
If perchance you’re enjoying an afternoon equestrian event, avoid ordering “A Furlong Too Late”, a “Headless Horseman”, “Horse Feathers” or a “Horses’s Ass” because the bartender is just as likely to flog your fancy fetlocks when you’re not looking!
As for the formal farewell dinner you're hosting for your blankety-blank boss, you may want to forget about ordering a round of “Bitter Experience”, “Bonehead”, and “Braindead” or that all time favorite, “Burnt Turkey”, (unless you’d like a pink slip to match your “Pink Lady”).
Weddings are wonderful occasions to honor two lost souls who happened to find each while tip-toeing through the tulips one spring day, but it’s not really the right place to toast the bride and groom with a “Sally Fudpucker”, “Seduction on the Rocks”, or that slippery special “Sand In Your Shorts” (as they head off on their three-day honeymoon to Hell Hollow, New Hampshire).
And last but not least, after a grueling day on the links, never invite your buddies to partake in a “Skinny Dip”, indulge in “Sex on the Sofa”, or suggest a “Shit on the Grass”, (unless you're prepared to live with the consequences of bad timing, poor judgment, and a lousy golf swing)!
And, if you simply must have more mirthful mouthfuls of marvelous stuff, do drop by one of the most interesting and intelligent imbibing sites I've visited recently.