Under the covers... Are covers done in a totally different style intersting? just funny? stupid? I don't know.

And I sure don't know what to make of this. (warning mp3 link, probably nsfw without headphones)

Oh and if you liked that you'll like this.

(Btw, it's by that chick who used to be in Veruca Salt. You know, her.  ¶ 1:39 PM 3 comments

  Drinking for Justice! I haven't blogged in a real, real, long time. And that's for two reasons. One, Sheri got Sims two, and every time I try to get near the computer, she growls like a mama bear with twelve cubs seeing a fur truck pull up. Two, it has something to do with my response to stress.

Ya see, in emotional makeup I am much like our friend the turtle. When bad things happen I tend to pull innwards, to protect my soft center. The only difference between me and our pal turtle is that I usually try drag a bottle of whiskey in with me. I guess only Sea Tortises do that, but they like Pina Coladas.

The bad thing of course, has been Sheri's eye worries. You can read her blog for all the details but the upshot is that we thought she was going to need a cornea transplant and now she probably won't. So, Sheri, being much more together about this whole thing than me, read constantly, got in contact with doctors and people who had had transplants, and tried to get as many opions as possible. Me, I read about the cornea transplant procedure, started new games on every xbox title I have, and tried to stay drunk enough that I could sleep through the dreams of leering docotors wielding melon ballers over my wife's sweet face.

Now I'm not going to suggest that this was harder on me than her, that would be truly stupid. But there's something really fucked about sitting around watching somebody you love be in that kind of situation. It's at least true that when the problem is your own, you can do some things about it. At the very least you can be in charge of how you're going to react to it. When it's somebody you care about, pretty much all you can do is hang out and figure out what they need. Not that that's bad, it's just a little, well, it makes you feel powerless. Needless to say, if I could have torn my eye out and given it to Sheri so she didn't have to go through surgery I'd have done it. But that's not what helps. What helps is just being supportive. It's just that that's really hard.

Well, enough of that. I'm going to go uncharted territory for me here. I know that hardly anybody reads this because after all, I'm like a were-blogger. I only leave comments on the full moon. But if you're reading this and you've invented a drink, I'd like you to leave the recipie. My pal Chris invented the Santa's Beard, which was really tasty (Chris, if you read this, leave the recipie, man). But that got me thinking about drinks I have invented. So here's the ones from me to start it out.

The Lime Incest (name inspired by a Serge Gainsbourg song, I swear)

1 shot cointreau
1/2 shot key lime juice (or juice of half lime)
throw both over ice, stir and fill with seltzer.


The Zapata

This is basically a screwdriver with seltzer and a shot of tabasco. I invented it for my stepdad when I was 8. Oddly enough, it's really good. (He actually suggested the name)


Sunrise on the Bog

Vodka and Grape soda.
(I invented this when I was fourteen and we ran out of orange juice for Zapatas.)


Okay, that's all I got for now. Anybody else?  ¶ 11:38 PM 14 comments