Monday, May 10, 2003. 9:54PM
I'm waiting in a line at a bakery with one of my buddies because I'm in the mood for a coffee scroll. There's this smell in the air, and my buddy says to me "What's that smell?" I take a good long sniff, and then pronounce "Smell's like bacon." The cop who's in front of me turns around and says "Excuse me, mate?" with an expression on his face like he's about to go Rodney King on my white ass. Being a coward, I panic and say "Whoa, sorry officer, it really does smell like bacon." He gives me a look like, "Just this one time, punk" and goes back to standing in line. When I get to the counter, the dude severing winks and is all "I fought the law, and the law won" and gives me a discount on my scroll. The store really did smell like bacon.
This tale of the violence inherent in the system takes me nicely to my main subject of the evening: mixing drinks. The other day, I and two of my close friends were sitting around having a few drinks. We'd been through most of the beer, but we still had quite a lot of spirits, so after a few shooters, we decided that we were drunk enough to invent a cocktail. Now, anyone who's ever invented, or even made a cocktail will know that there has to be an ingredient that is just some random thing - some Tabasco sauce, a raw egg, some random liquor, whatever, as long as it sets this cocktail apart, and gives it it's own distinctive flavor. The cocktail we made we called The Benevolent Dictator.
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Two scoops Vanilla ice cream Serves six. |
Now that I think about it, however, The Benevolent Dictator, however, was a somewhat inept name for this cocktail. The flavor comes at you in levels; first you taste the ice-cream, then the Midori, then the banana, then maybe the Oreos - the point is, there is no overwhelming flavor, if anything, this drink is a communist Utopia - communism that somehow manages to circumnavigate man's basic ambition and desire to rise above his fellow man and create a society that composes the best flavors of all it's ingredients, none more dominant than the others. An example of a Benevolent Dictator would be something like a Harvey Wallbanger. A Harvey Wallbanger is basically a screwdriver (Vodka and Orange juice), but with an additional ingredient - Galliano. The Screwdriver came about as an attempt to mask the bitterness of the Vodka, which it does, however, no completely. Is it nicer than drinking straight Vodka? Yes. Is the flavor of the Vodka completely gone? No, it still dominates the drink, and is the Dictator of this equation. In a Harvey Wallbanger, however, it is the Galliano which dominates, replacing the bitterness of the Vodka with it's own sweet tang. Delicious.
Anarchy, too, is a noble form of cocktail. Without pre-defined laws in society, we have the law of the jungle. The strongest survives. I'm thinking here of something like a Southern Suicide, (Jack Daniel's, Southern Comfort, Orange juice, Lemonade, Grenadine) which tastes three flavors of horrible, before leaving you with the distinct and enduring aftertaste of cheap whiskey. Admittedly, I was using cheap whiskey, but the point remains, it tastes worse than it the whiskey would have straight, and that's the point about Anarchy. It's a good idea. All the ingredients make sense on paper, but when you drink it down, all it does is take good, established things and tear them down. Everyone is much the same, and if they could just get along, it'd be fine, but no, the little differences in the flavors don't react well with one another, and all you end up doing is breaking down the infrastructure you had previously established.
Democracy, I hate to say it, is a pre mixed drink. You know what I mean, they come in bottles or cans and chicks drink them at parties. We're talking UDLs, Vodka Cruisers, and things like that. It's mass marketed, it's bubbly, it doesn't really taste of anything much, and more and more it's replacing the old ways. People these days just don't know how to mix it up anymore. Sure, maybe they know how to put vodka into that fizzy raspberry stuff made by generic brands that you can buy in supermarkets, but if you ask your average teenager how to mix a Bloody Mary (Vodka, Dash of Lemon juice, Worcestershire, Tabasco, Pepper, Salt, Tomato juice) they'll look at you like you don't know what you're talking about, and for a good reason too; they don't know what you're talking about. No, no, today's generation drinks prepackaged crap that Coca-Cola Corporation mixes for you and tries to flog to third world countries. That's democracy.
A constitutional monarchy? That's a long Island Ice Tea. You see, nobody really knows what's in a long Island iced tea, and you sure as hell can't taste it. If has a figure head type thing which is the illusion of it being tea, however, what it's really about is getting chicks wasted. You see, a guy gets drunk, he gets sleepy, or maybe violent, maybe he feels sick… whatever. What he doesn't get is horny. Sure, he'll sleep with girls he wouldn't sleep with sober, but that's not because he's more desperate, but because he's more eager to impress his friends, which is a symptom of the same thing that causes a need for violence. Girls, however, get horny. Put a few cocktails under the hood of a young woman, and she'll be gagging for it. Now, lots of women like to keep control, so they don't go out and party and drink a whole pile, which is where Long Island Ice Teas come in. Because you want to seem to be drinking, but don't want to drink too much and loose your horny, you have something not very strong like beer. Have three in the time it takes her to drinking her two long island ice teas, and believe me Buddy, if you can make sure she doesn't go home with someone else, then Buddy, you're getting some. Just like a constitutional monarchy. Yes, that's right, zeedarteretz.com: pornographic stories, political insight, and date rape advice.
I looked up fascist babes for this article, hoping for something like this, only more scantily clad. These are the models from the launch party of the computer game "Return to Castle Wolfenstein." I've done my best to black out the nerds for you.
Military babes, yielded unto me a whole new genre of fetish photos (which I have to admit, I liked). The first one I looked at, and the only real one I felt would conform to my hosts "no porn sites" policy was this one. God bless America.
