Hola bishes. Long time no escribo.
This is a 100% true story that is completely, honestly, 100% on the level with the truth. Estoy siendo honesto, punta maricones. I wouldn’t lie to anyone.
Anonche, en mi cama, I had a vision of a delicious cocktail. Was it the first signs of a budding addiction (it wasn’t)? Was it an implanted memory from our conversation last night (not likely)? Was it a reaction to a brain that will never quite shut off (possibly)? First symptoms of syphilis contracted from your mom (bingo)?
The answer is yes. Never mind what’s in the parenthesis. As you know from watching CNN they like to make sure that headlines are correctomundo as they interpret. But I digress.
What was this sueno de grandeza? It’s the cocktail to end all cocktails. A swanky, frothy, cream filled bananalicious, stripper referencing libation named the Dicking Bimbo!
Grab yourself a blender and get busy with this recipe:
1 oz vanilla or cake flavored vodka
.5 oz brandy
.5 oz banana liqueur (99 bananas is the best)
1 large, phallic banana
2 oz whipping cream
Put everything in your addiction mixer and whip it up! It tastes a little like bananas foster, but with a kick. Alcohol content: 6.8 chads. Stripper names: 2.
Jorge de la Vega
b 1930 Buenos Aries, Vermont d. 1971
What do you do with a problem like this?
I guess you’d have to go for some kind of Social Justice Rock Paper Scissors game. We could call it Rock Privilege Scissors.
I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve let a few things from this site bleed over into everyday life. The one that I use most often is “…and then I found twenty dollars.” It’s become kind of a mental thing, too–I kept waiting for a guy to say it this morning, but he just kept going on and on and on about the time he nailed your mom behind the Arby’s on Foothill Blvd. Yeesh.
Anyway, speaking of people who never shut up, enjoy these highlights from last night’s White House Corespondent’s Dinner while you wait for the Tuckers to show up. A real laff riot!
(Oh, and happy birfday, Brendan!)
In order to stay on topic like we usually do, I decided to poat about something a lot of us have in common today:
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
Thanks to a guy I used to work with, I always get this shit stuck in my head around this time of year. And now you’ve got it stuck in yours!
Look at this spooooooky house!
I hear there’s a family of monsters inside. They feast on human suffering, high self-regard and wagyu beef, and they give trick-or-treaters arugula. Best to avoid it.
Finally, here’s a guy dressed as Thor, kind of. He and his buddies put about as much effort into their costumes as I put into this poat. Whatever, I don’t get paid for this shit.