“So, this is kind of a random question…”
I nodded my head at the man across from me. I was in the kitchen of a fellow parent from my child’s school. I had come to pick my son up from a playdate, and found myself hanging around making small talk while the kids finished up playing. Between multiple playdates and a few shared meals, we had become friendly with this family and had reached the level of Facebook friends and random text exchanges. I was curious what his random question could entail.
“Do you … well … do you know where I could get some pot?” Keep reading »
It always starts the same way: “Come out for drinks!”
Maybe, I think to myself. I need to do more research.
“What’s the name of the place?” I ask. ”O’Dooley’s Irish McIrishman Pub,” someone says.
I get a pit in my stomach. I fire up Google. I find the page on MenuPages. My fears are confirmed: yup, this place only serves beers and offers a dinky wine list.
“I’m going to pass,” I say.
“But come onnnnnnnnn. You never come ouuttttttt,” someone whines. That’s because I want to go somewhere where I can get a fucking fancy cocktail. Keep reading »
We’re embracing Sober January. And for good reason. The other night we had two glasses of wine at a work happy hour and woke up with wicked hangovers. This can only mean one thing: our lady drinker lifespan has come to end. Time to mourn the drinking days of our youth. After the jump, our drunk memories … may they rest in peace. Keep reading »
As you can probably tell, it has been quite a stressful week here at Frisky HQ. Thanks to a hard drive fire (seriously, a fire!), our admin capabilities has been wavering between being totally broken and pretending to be fixed long enough to let us work for a few hours and then delete everything we did. I knew this week’s project needed to be of the alcoholic variety, but when I found a recipe for vodka cupcakes (let me just say that again: VODKA! CUPCAKES!), I thought, “Damn, even better!” Let’s all whip up a batch of boozy baked goods and forget our troubles. At least until Monday. [The Baking Robot]
Does “99 Bottles Of Beer On The Wall” even count as a drinking song? Because if so, a 4th grade field trip is the last time I ever got jolly enough to sing the praises of alcohol. I think we can all agree that drinking songs are olde-timey and therefore rad and New Year’s Eve will be so much better if you and your friends know the lyrics to “Glorious Beer.”
So click your way through 1930s-era song book published by John Labatt Limited, a Canadian brewery, which the blogger over at Retronaut found at an antiques sale. “I Wish I Was Single Again” might come in handy sometime! (The song with a racist reference to “darkies,” not so much.) [Retronaut]