One of the regulars at the bar is having a birthday this week, so everyone wants to get a little party together for him. The guy even took the following day off, as he plans on obliterating his liver and needing a three day weekend to recover.

So T sends a bunch of us an email saying we should get some ballons and cake and shit. I'm thinking to myself the last thing this guy needs are some fruity balloons and a cake. First off, he's an excellent cook himself; and sometimes he'll show up at the bar with a platter full of freshly made hotwings or quesadillas. I don't know about everyone else, but I'd rather have something like that than cake. If we're going to have cake and icecream, why don't we just go down to the roller rink and glide around like a bunch of gayass schoolchildren? Secondly, he's a middle aged bachelor. That motherfucker doesn't want cake, he wants an all expense paid trip to the titty shack capped off with a roll in the hay.

Unfortunately, none of us are willing to do that last favor ourselves nor do we have the combined jack it would take to pay a professional to take on the job. So fucking cake and balloons it is.

Posted by: shank at 09:09 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Yesterday at the bar was Bloody Mary Sunday. They are on special every Sunday, but I guess a lot of people got hammered on Saturday. I must have made 20 darn Bloody Mary's yesterday. Not to toot my own horn, but everyone says mine are the best. So I decided that I shouldn't deprive the world of my bloody mary awesomeness any longer. Here is the receipe-please do not indulge unless you are 21 or older-I don't want any po-po showing up at my doorstep...

The Best Blood Mary Ever

Start with 1 1/2-3 oz Vodka (depending on how strong you want it). I prefer the triple distilled kinds, they're smoother; pour over ice in a 12-16 oz glass. Top vodka with Spicy Hot V8. Add 4-5 dashes of worcestershire sauce, 2-3 dashes of hot sauce (I like Franks Red Hot, but that might be related to my Buffalo roots). Add a dash of garlic powder and a dash of celery salt (1/8 of a teaspoon if you want to measure). Fresh cracked black pepper is crucial-I usually do 2-3 turns on my pepper grinder. Some people like to add horseradish to their drinks-It's good but a little chunky for my taste. If you want it, 1/8 of a teaspoon would be enough!
Mix well, preferable by transfering back and forth between glasses. Set aside for a moment. Pour some old bay onto a small flat plate. Moisten the rim of the glass destined to hold the finished bloody mary. Dip the glass rim into the old bay (similar to salting a glass for a margartita-okay, exactly like it). Pour the finished bloody mary into the old bay adorned glass. Add a celery stalk and a few large spanish olives. Kick back and relax--That hangover will be gone in no time!

Posted by: Singultus at 07:23 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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For the last two years, IÂ’ve been working in the illustrious bartending field. Slinging drinks to help drown the sorrows of the downtrodden, depressed, and occasionally the pathetic. During these past two years, I have accumulated a wealth of stories, some funny, some scary, most entertaining.

A few years ago, around the holidays, I had a “first” experience. It was a busy night, the bar was packed. It was that magical frenzy time between Thanksgiving and Christmas, the time when retail pressures and family dysfunction are at their peak. A couple of military types saunter into the bar (I know they were military b/c of their short haircuts, drill sergeant walk, and Government Issue ID’s). They proceed to imbibe copious amounts of Bud Light and Jager Bombs.

For those of you blissfully unaware of what a Jager Bomb is, it is a shot built on a base of Jagermeister, a liquor that tastes like a blend of cough syrup and black liquorice, which is served chilled. Added to this vile liquid is Red Bull, that sickly sweet, bull testicle hormone “energy” drink. This concoction is then thrown down the gullet and chased with a beer, mainly to scrape the overwhelming sweetness remaining on the back of your tounge.

Now, these lovely, salt of the earth military boys drink several Bud Lights and Jager Bombs throughout the night. They are getting tipsy, but behaving, so I continue to pour. They order two more, I pour, serve and liberate them of their $12 (yeah, 6 bucks a pop!). I return with their change just as they set their shot cups on the bar. One of the guys looks at me funny. I see the pale green color creep into his cheeks and I jump back- 2 seconds too late. He returned that Jager Bomb, along with a few beers and some semblance of chicken or pasta. All over the bar, and yours truly.

In shock, thinking about all the nasty bugs you can catch from the body fluids of others, I hose myself off, then bleach down the bar. Meanwhile, lines are beginning to form as other bar patrons have guzzled down their own drinks and are impatiently waiting for refills.

I finish wiping the bar down and the vomit comet asks me, very politely, “Can I get two more bud lights?”

Bewildered I look at him. “No, I think you’re cut off now”.

Posted by: Singultus at 03:31 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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