Well Isn't that Special & the Flaming Choloblow

OK OK - I know I've been slacking. And part of it was knowing I needed a good followup to the last post. Well, today - I've certainly got that.

What the heck is with people unable to contain their urges after a few drinks? Why is it that some place that would seem disgusting to most humans develop the irresistible allure to those that have had a few belts? Heck - there was a story out of Wichita, Kansas a few weeks ago about people having sex in a dumpster - a DUMPSTER!! We kicked the blog off with a similar story - search back for the Goth Roof Rat incident.

Our story begins yesterday. It was a pretty routine Sunday. A nice crowd was at the bar watching football (even if it was the Packers) and chowing on chicken wings. Nothing more going on than having a good time and cheering on their teams.

And that's when it sort of falls apart. I'm hanging out, just sort of wandering between groups, making sure everyone is having a good time, and a guy from one of the tables tells me, "hey man, there's about to be some drama in the bathroom". I immediately move to the men's room, and yelled at the bartender to follow me in - had no idea what to expect - but having been around long enough to expect anything.

Entering the bathroom, I see a guy and a girl fighting, and the girl is kind of kicking the dude's ass. She's mega pissed. So I start yelling that it's time to go - and try and sort of break it up - but don't really wanna get bested by some pissed off chick. I look back into the stall, and there's another dude just kind of standing against the wall watching - I told him he had to go too - and he just puts his arms up innocently "I didn't do anything, man". So, I forgot about him for the time being.


(Romantic, isn't it?)

So it takes about another 90 seconds or so of me repeatedly yelling "Let's Go!" and moving them to the door - and it's kind of over. Crazy chick keeps coming back though and opening the door and yelling at the other "I didn't do anything, man" dude. So, at this point - I figure something's up. This guy (we'll call him dude number two) is now getting worked up and loud. He's sitting at the bar - pretty happy that he's still there and as a bonus, he has dude number one's (who is now kicked out) beer in front of him along with his own.

Meanwhile - crazy girl keeps opening the door every few minutes and yelling - I finally tell her I'm calling the cops - and we've now seen the last of her. Dude number two is getting louder and starting to bug people to the point that he moves himself down to the end of the bar where a couple of my friends are sitting - and starts harassing them. Did I mention that its now obvious that this dude number two is flamingly gay? No? Yeah - that's kind of pertinent.

So - I let dude number two go for awhile hoping he gets himself calmed down and shut up - and start talking to someone about what just went down. What we have now pieced together is that dude number two was blowing dude number one in the can. Dude number one's girl friend took exception to this and was crawling under the stall to break it up. To her credit - she did a great job breaking it up and kicking dude number one's ass over it. Good for her.

Dude number two isn't calming down any - so at this point I take the full beer away from him and tell him he can finish his beer, but then its time to go as he's had enough to drink (he was pretty drunk). He gets pretty indignant over that and tells me I should just take both beers, then. Alrighty - I can do that - and did. Now, it's time to go. He's none too pleased about being 86'd and tells my friends that he's a witch and is going to put a spell on me - and kick my ass.

I give him a little bit - to see if he'll remove himself as some people do - but of course - that isn't going to happen today. I finally start telling him its time to go - but now he wants to fight me. I'm still remaining pretty calm and just repeating "time to go". This is where I got branded a racist for throwing out the only Mexican in the place. Now this part is true. I was throwing out the only Mexican in the place but he was also drunk and giving oral favors in the men's shitter - so, I'm still pretty sure I'm not a racist.



Which leads us to our shot - the Flaming Choloblow.

It's pretty similar to the favored bachelorette party shot the blow job - and a prairie fire. Well - it's exactly like that. Make a prairie fire (the hot sauce is for all the anger) and top it with whip cream. No hands with this one - go down on it like a big boy/girl.

Special thanks go to Shawn for helping with this shot!

The Monistat 7

Here's a special one for you homebrewers and guys who like to get slapped.

I think there are a number of applications for using this shot. Can't figure out how to break up with that girl that is no longer doing it for you? Want her friends to hate you too? Maybe you have some weird fetish about getting booted on by a girl.

This one is for you!



I don't know if there is a name for it - but anyone who has ever had a home brew beer knows about the yeasty sludge that's in the bottom of a home brew bottle. One of my home brewing buddies says its called a "yeast cake". Hopefully in this case it's not too cakey but a little more liquefied and sludgy.

Take that sludgy yeasty stuff - and top it off with some Seagram's 7.



Duck if you're buying it for your girlfriend. Special thanks goes out to Nick on this one.

Bazooka Mussolini

Every first of the month I do inventory at one of our stores. It's nothing too interesting - just have to see how much booze is in each bottle to determine pour cost. During the process, a lot of times I'll find new bottles that distributors send hoping to get future orders of that product.

Sometimes it's wildly successful. The hottest drink we are pouring this summer is the John Daly, which is like an Arnold Palmer on steroids. It's sweet tea vodka and lemonade. Try it - I guarandamntee that it's the most delicious drink I'll ever tell you about on this blog.

However, other times, some of the product that is sent just make you scratch your head. That's what happened in this instance when I came across a bottle of Three Olives Bubble. It's bubble gum flavored vodka.



I sniffed the stuff and it smelled just like Bubble Yum. Not exactly what I'm looking for in a vodka. I knew that it was going to make an appearance here at some point.

So here it is - your favorite comic strip hero from penny bubble gum meets your favorite Italian dictator.



Pour half a shot of Three Olives Bubble



Top with Sambuca

Make sure you pull down your sweater unlike Bazooka Joe's buddy Mort. You might boot on yourself.



Exciting edit addendum.

This is Robert. He's one of our best regulars and an adventurous guy. Not only has he done the Kentucky Hotdog - Last night he downed the newly minted Bazooka Mussolini. I'm confident in saying that he's the only one in history - or at the very least the very first to do both of these shots. So in the four and a half billion years the earth has been around, and the last 3000 or so years of civilization - he's the guy. Impressive.

Way to go Robert!

The Bus Bomb

Welcome back readers. I'm going to be honest here. Normally, I don't do these shots. I come up with these things - slap a name on 'em, and then try and convince some sap to put one down. I'll admit - there is a twisted enjoyment that comes with watching someone trying to keep these suckers from coming back up - or the awful faces that get made - or the swearing up and down that he/she will NEVER do that again! It's cheap fun (except for the time I paid someone $50 to do the How Now Brown Cow shot).

But today - I'm going to relate a story about my own personal experience in the realm of puke inducing shots. Now, this particular shot isn't gagtastic because of the ingredients - it's more because of the sheer volume involved. I'm sure many of you on many different occasions have put back an Irish Car Bomb. It's a great shot - and incorporates some of my most very favorite things from the world of drinking: Guinness, Irish Whiskey, and Irish Cream. These are all wonderful things on their own - combine them with a drop and pop - and it's like a goddam magical, chocolatey Irish milkshake.

The Bus Bomb is very much like the Car Bomb but uhhhh, BIGGER. Much much bigger. It was invented by my buddy Leon and his friend Tommy Erickson up in Vail on a St Patrick's Day. These guys were legendary bartenders up there and could get their customers all fucked up in a special way - with a little flair. So - since I've known Leon, we generally do a Bus Bomb each St. Pat's. It's fun. It's a challenge. It's a race to the bottom. And it's a whole lotta shot at once.

Fill up a pitcher about half full of Guinness.
Fill up a rock's glass with Jameson and Bailey's Irish Cream.

Drop it - and get to work!



Now, typically with the Car Bomb - you get through it quickly enough, wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and declare it DELICIOUS! The Bus Bomb is a little bit of a different animal though. There is a bit of a curdling effect since it takes a little longer to drink the damn thing. You might have to power through that. It's also about 30 or so ounces of Irish goodness - for those of you bad at math - it's like slamming two beers and change. It's a lot.

I've never gotten sick from one. But I sure as hell was full afterwards.

The Nagasaki

Ok readers, I admit, I've been a little remiss and I shall try to do better.

We'll go in a bit of a different direction today. It isn't very often that you go out for a fine dining experience and get an opportunity to drag your friends, wife, co-workers, boss, important client into a potential puke inducing excursion.

Let's try that today. We all love the sushi. It's tasty, it's fun to try and use the chopsticks and adhere to some of the rituals and customs associated with a nice sushi experience. It also gives us access to the vital ingredients for todays shot. So, turn the sushi experience on its ear.



The Nagasaki

Of course its a bomb shot (we're already living in the world of bad taste - lets go all the way).

One shot of soy sauce
Drop it in a glass of warm sake

乾杯

Thanks to Matt for assistance on this one.

A Nod to the Classics

The idea behind this blog isn't new. There are some of us (cough) older folks out here reading this thing reminiscing about "back in the day" when we used to do:

Three Wise Men - There are a ton of variations on this one. Most start with Mr. Jack Daniels and Jose Cuervo in it, this is where it can meander a bit - some will employ Johnny "Red" Walker, while others might sub in Jim Beam. Still others substitute Jagermeister or whatever happens to be hiding in the liquor cabinet. The end result is badness. One of our readers submitted a story about the "Return of the Three Wise Men". It's worth a read if you haven't checked it out already.



The Prairie Fire - This one is a whole lot more straight forward. Grab a shot of tequila (generally Cuervo - but I like goin' for the well, it's just so much more ill flavored and suitable for shot shenanigans) and then add tobasco hot sauce (or whatever hot sauce you have readily available). Watching your buddy's face turn bright red is the fun part.


This is what your throat feels like after a prarie fire.

Cement Mixer - Now this was a hugely popular 21st birthday shot for the unsuspecting back in my younger days. It's simply Bailey's Irish Cream and Rose's lime juice. It would curdle in your mouth and often lead to some chunks being hurled by the unlucky recipient. Classic fun.


This girl is in double trouble. Not only is she downing the dreaded cement mixer, but she's doing it upside down style. Spewage will mostly go all over her.

Have some other old school favorites? Drop us an email and tell us about em!

His and Her Shots

"...True love is hard to find, sometimes you think you have true love and then you catch the early flight home from San Diego and a couple of nude people jump out of your bathroom blindfolded like a goddamn magic show ready to double team your girlfriend..."



Mitch from "Old School" was probably right. And, it got me to thinking (which is always a dangerous thing). True love is hard to find, but retail America is out there trying to help us find someone so we can buy the crap that they tell us couples need to have. There are his and her towels, robes, lazy boy chairs - heck I think even Lexus tried to convince me one Christmas that I needed a couple of their vehicles parked in my driveway for "me and her". Since there was no her, I told them to EFF off and brooded with some sort of drink in my hand - maybe it should have been one of these.



But back to the task at hand. I don't recall any "his and her" shots - so I invented em and you, the reader, are now compelled to go out and grab your Sammy or Sally and swill one of these suckers down - Slainte!

The Dry Handjob (For Him)

Lauder's Scotch (yep - it makes another appearance - this stuff is just that great)
Dry Vermouth

The Dusty Hoo Hah (For Her)
Dry Vermouth
Red Bull

This one is done bomb style - drop and pop away ladies.

Until next time...