An old friend of mine (for whom "Jim B." was actually named) used to be the sous chef at the late, great Firebird, founded before WWI, the Revolution, and about fifteen years before the overly-ballyhooed Tea Room. We used talk about Vodka and Grey Goose came in at the threshold of overpriced shite. I'd still take a Stoli. Chilled, of course.


One thing I did learn from the man, though, was how to flavor vodka, and I'll tell you, any flavored vodka you'd get in any overpriced Russian restaurant, anywhere, is bottom-shelf stuff infused with a fistful of berries at something under 173F. Himself preferred 170, just to be safe.

Haven't talked to that dude in a couple of years since he found AA, Jesus and the Republican Party, but he once knew what he was talking about.

Damn Shame. :drunky: or, errrm, before this place got taken over by a tea-totalling texan:

We'll have to agree to disagree about Grey Goose. It's my go-to vodka as of late. Mixes well with everything and I don't get even a hint of a hangover. Belvedere is a close second. When I'm out at the bars, I order Kettle One & club soda with a lime.

Stoli 100 was my mixer of choice for nights when I wanted to get obliterated, but I've given that up. None of the Russians I know will even touch the stuff. For some reason, they like Ciroc. I'll admit, it's good enough to drink straight. Chopin is another vodka at that level.

I haven't tried infusing vodka with flavor yet, but I have all the necessary items: abundant raspberry bushes, a vacuum sealer and a sous vide machine.

I'm not dissing the Grey Goose, Steez; I'm saying it's the last stop before pretentiousness, or just at the doorstep, but not quite inside pledging for the Omegas.

The Chilled Stoli I referred to before is a former poster who none but Gia, Willie, Lou and maybe one or two others would remember. And besides being hot, she's both Russian and Southron.

Right now I'm sipping some ciders as the london broil from Faicco's marinates. Posted pics of that before so won't do it again. Only difference this time is doing it in February in Brooklyn. Take yer respites while ye may. Got some gifted Bourbon to go with it.

I concur with what you said 100%. But dude if you eat poor you have to drop the 17$ on the pork loin when it's on sale. You can get a pork Loin as long as your arm for 17$

I meant pork....not poor....I'm drunk.

Trying a Tuscan-style pork loin soon. You get a boneless, center-cut pork loin, butterfly it open, stuff it with spices, roll it back up, tie it and roast it.

Fucking Super bowl coming up and I'm almost out of bourbon. WTF was I thinking. Closest liquor store is 48 fucking miles away. Wine or beer I guess.

Don't be a wuss. I thought I go sober today. Got up and was sorry I didn't get some beer Saturday (no Sunday sales here). Drove 63 miles to OH. Sometimes a guys gotta do what a guys gotta do.

yeah, like move to civilization. Dry Sunday?

It's Beer O'Clock. Full Sail Wassail and Alaskan Icy Bay IPA.

Its beer only right now but in two of the local 3 counties in 3 different states have gone moist. Still no liquor stores though.

Driniking a couple Buds and eating pizza. Ga Ga went off on that national anthem eh.

GaGa was great, but Coldplay??? Wtf? Anywhoo, I'm about 16 beers in.

When PA was dry on Sundays it was fun as shit to hit Roger Wilco's in NJ across the Tacony Palmyra bridge. Its a novelty for someone from PA to be able to buy beer and hard liquor from the same store. Get there before they opened and it would be like a line waiting for concert tickets. Everyone was from PA. The parking lot would be full so you brought a friend so one person could wait in line and the other could drive circles around the building. It was like a wagon train of cars driving around the building. You never knew what was going to happen. One time this old black dude lost his shit waiting and people crowding his personal space so he pulled a knife, started screaming and the tried to pry the store door open with the knife and when that didn't work he tried to pick the lock with his knife.

I always hit the Roger Wilco going into Jersey then stopping off for some fast food then driving out. If you the Roger Wilco leaving Jersey the state and local cops took turns pulling people over if they saw you come out of the Roger Wilco parking lot.

Proverbs 31-7

I went to a zine release party last night. The photog always invites me to his parties, but I'm either busy or just too lazy to leave the house. I had a rad day in Yiddish class. I rocked that shit! So, dude and I get there and promise ourselves 1 glass (me: vodka; him; Basil Hayden) each. One turned into five.

Campari, a little sweet vermouth, seltzer water, and a shake of Angostura bitters. Garnished with a slice of lime.

I'm fucking sliced right now. Boss's 50th. Tons of politics. I wound up bartending it rather than hanging out. Just getting home at 4 in the morning because she was there drinking w her husband and a couple of other people. I resent a lot of shit there. But nights like these she gets nostalgic and she and I talk . It's one of those times when you look back on stuff. I'm almost there myself. I really like closing the shop up on my own . I just put on some tunes , sweep the floor, drink a bit, and reflect. It's always been one of my favourite times. Even when I was a lowly busboy, I usually was last man out wherever I worked. I like to grab a drink for the road and walk home when it's nice. But it's -30 here right now so i'll usually sneak a drink into the cab. Most of the guys here are good w it. Since it was Uber I waited til i got home to crack it open....I'm rambling......

preserved for eternity

Fell. Off. Wagon.

Haven't landed yet.

I don't like mixed drinks, but that sounds delightful.

It's pretty refreshing. Just have to watch the amt of Campari and vermouth. Too much and it gets too sweet and cloying. Keep the seltzer bottle handy if the Campari overpowers.

I've been on the wagon for about a week. Dry out period.

^ Quitter.

I plan on getting back on it tomorrow....early.

New guy at work is gonna get fragged. Fucking faggot. He doesn't know when to shut up. "Im not doing any work tonight" then pouted the whole shift. An hour late (major storm here ) then throws a fit . We added a new pilsner (beaus brewery runs a ting called feBREWary -get it?- so I am drinking the new beer we got from them). I wish in was 1988 again . I'd drag him outside and kick him in his ass. So i drank with the kid who used to have his job and closed up. I put on the Waterboys and cleaned up alone. at home now. I don't know why I should tell you vicious shitbags this, but I think I have caught feelings for this chick. This social media thing where you see people smiling and carrying on with their bfs doesn't help. Just finishing a can of Rolling Rock ( I can get takeout beers from a few of my locals) and contemplating getting into some vodka . I'm so tempted to text this girl. It's pointless. Anyway here's the Waterboys.

Text her. But at a decent hour.

Don't. Text. Drunk.

trying not to. pissed again btw. a professor published a book and him and i have become friends on fb (over science-y stuff) and he gave me a copy. he's a great human. we had a few and talked about how social media is destroying critical thought. and about lsd. .............. the last time i texted her (drunk)i was gambling and she lives near the casino. i found out she was in jamaica. with some old guy. she'll tell me shit straight up (i'm baffled by this) . but i literally want to explode. i don't give a fuck about her bf . he's just some kid to me. that's the weird thing. i don't have the right to be jealous or asked if she's fucking this dude. one of these days, before i fucking drop dead, i'll tell you the craziness of the past few years.

I had 42 sober days up until 7 pm last night. The night started sensibly enough but very quickly took auspicious curve and became an all nighter. It's now 8:22 am and I have a bloody mary in my hand and vow that I'll ride this one out until its 24 hours long.

[Buddhist holiday - long weekend in Bangkok..]

wow, bish and mallocup in the same week?

sober today. im actually pretty happy. took someone home. what a difference a day makes. drank a bunch of lebanese wine. man it's great.


http://www.nataliemaclean.com/wine-reviews/pinacle-de-fakra-chateau-fakra-2010/223805

Relaxing with undnyc over a few glasses of Basil Hayden's at a rooftop bar. Life is good.

FTFY

Your avant must have let down its garde.

I got so drunk last night that I piss the bed again. For this reason I have only bought yellow mattresses for over a decade. I'm not kidding, the stains really are virtually rendered invisible with a little bleach water. If you pee on a blue mattress you have to throw it out after the first time.

No odor left in the mattress? I know I've woken up in the middle of wetting my shorts and ran to the bathroom to finish up my piss and toss the shorts in the bathtub to wash later. Seems like when you reach "drunken stupor" level of drunk, your piss is mostly odorless water. My morning shit the next day, on the other hand, sometimes smells like it would catch fire if I dropped a match in the toilet. I'll have to test this someday. Not sure if posting a pic of the results would get me banned here.

I'm a cat lover. So it don't really matter none if my mattress stinks. The whole fucking pad reeks of Thundercat & Lightpaws. But let me tell you something, I believe booze is far better for regularity than laxatives or prunejuice. Stink it may, but that is good. It is good because you know that stench is indicative of toxins being released from one's innards. That they are largely toxins you put there the evening prior is neither here nor there.

Fuck. If you're pissing yourself after a drinking binge it just might be time to seek some fucking help for alcoholism. I knew a girl that her mother was trying to fix me up with and saw her doing this sitting on a couch unconscious. Hell to the naw.

Mattress waterproof protector

Windsock, your drinking is highly destructive and humiliating, which I'm sure you enjoy. Before I left this mortal coil I found that heavy drug use served the same result, and that Brandon Iron was very willing to help a friend out, for a price . . .

Stop being judgy. If it makes his posts better (meaning more awful), I encourage his further inebriation. Mattresses are cheap. Soiling your own soul is forever.

Alcoholism requires no network of acquaintances. So it is effortless and the truth slow death of the alienated. Though it does get annoying when you develop crushes on cashiers and have to rotate your Kamchatka purchases at various petrol stations within a ten mile radius so that from your delusional point of none of them realize the depth of your problem and may still be charmed by you at some point.

I have a rotation of liquor stores I visit as well. No cute girls work at any of them, but I still try not to visit the same location twice in a row. It just feels wrong.

I'm drunk as fuck. It was this girl's 21st tonight and I had no business being there. I have given up on ever being around her again. There was a mass invite I ignored. But she hit me up asking if she was going to see me. So I went. It's at her 'boss's' house. Which is a mansion so I ask no questions. I am the only one who went swimming and met a bunch of cute girls who were probably wondering who the hell I was. It's weird seeing her bf who is a good kid. I miss her.

There are several liquor stores in my area but only two that I generally frequent: One is around the corner from me and the other is on the way from the train to my house, maybe two blocks away. The one by the train station has the only cute chick, this Asian girl with a great ass who always seems to be bending over something when I pass by. Guess which one I frequent more.


Doing a little day drinking on this self-made three-day weekend. Angry Orchard before I shower and do brunch and bloodies.

One local lager and an ounce or two of Jack Daniel's Single Barrel.

Thought I was gonna have to take my car in to get a clunky sound in the driveline checked out. I'd hear it every time I'd accelerate from a stop. Then I remembered there was a half gallon bottle of Kettle One in the trunk. Luckily it didn't break.

I'm drinking tonight. It got very hot today in Ohio. I'm treating myself to an ice cold six pack of Heineken before I start on the proper drinking of vodka. I plan on masturbating to a Hailey Young clip fest until nothing comes out.