You just swallow the Advil, you don't crush it up and snort it: DAY 6

We haven't done dreadful yet, have we? Not a single shot worthy of a bachelorette party, not a single float of burning rum. Nothing named after a baked good or utilizing brand-name mixers. Well it's Friday god damn it and that's about to change.

YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD LIBRARIAN DOUBLES DOWN ON THE DIRTY STUFF

Dreadful drinks kind of come in two flavors: - Tacky and Broke-ass. There's also Creepy Crafty, like the Camp Crystal Lake Surprise (blue curacao, rum, OJ, with a shred of red Jello floating in it), but we should save that for its own day, don't you think? We've embraced all three of these themes in the past here on the Advil Calendar, as we also embrace flavors like Stupid Fancy, Weeknight Drunk, and - OH FOR CRAP'S SAKE CLOSE THE DOOR WHEN YOU'RE PEEING.

GOD I AM SO DONE WITH LIVING WITH ONLY MEN. And men-to-be. Now I have completely lost my train of thought thanks to the - well thanks to the peeing! And bonus butt-quack. Thanks sweetie. God. They treat me like a queen by and large, and I can shame 'em into right behavior when it comes to towels on the bathroom floor and whatnot, but sometimes they are just simply smelly, loud, crumb-strewing belch machines.

You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna watch The Sound of Music Live, and they will FLEE.

...!

Wow. That joke was on me, as it turns out. Fleeing would have been a good idea.

Seriously, I'm a bit stunned. Vampire Bill barked every line like a tiny little army dog, and Carrie kept checking on him sideways, like, "You gonna hit that note? Because I could hop in for ya." I never disliked him on True Blood but the way he lunged in at her and sucked her terrified face when they had to kiss made me want to kick him in the shin.

That poor chick. Her performance was an excellent example of how a person can dutifully learn to do everything she's supposed to, and then execute it all correctly, and still look like she's trudging to Siberia instead of skipping through the Alps. Dang. People were posting drinking games based on this awkward mess, but I figured that was a bad idea and I stayed away. 

Right now though might be a good time for a drink. How about a Tacky one? Looove tacky. Couple years ago I posted the Glitter Dunn (moonshine, Red Bull and Sunny D) as good fuel for wrapping presents. Hey and Nida, my cousin's girlfriend who helped me with the Viryta? She passed along a perfect tacky drink, the White Trash Shooter, which she described as peppermint schnapps and Yoo Hoo

I checked online for proportions and it seems like 3 parts schnapps and 1 part Yoohoo. You can also make this as a long drink, in which case it's 3 oz peppermint schapps over ice and then fill up with Yoohoo and you call it the York Peppermint Patty.

Further searching on the York Peppermint Patty shot nets you this stupid human trick: 

Peppermint Patty Shooter

Pour a shot of peppermint schnapps.
Shoot it, but do not swallow.
Squirt chocolate syrup into your mouth.
Shake head vigorously.
Um, swallow.

How's that for tacky? One more? Ok let's do one more.

Well this lovely long orange cocktail from tech journalist Sean Gallagher isn't necessarily tacky, but it is just perfect for a long afternoon sitting around on my porch talking shit about people, which is extremely tacky behavior. Plus, and it folds right into the funniest video I've seen online lately. I don't usually go for the Shit New Yorkers/Cat Lovers/Knitters/Liberal Arts Majors Say videos, but I loved the women in this one. Bless their hearts.

Southern mimosa on the skids

2 parts Southern Comfort
1 part Cointreau
3 parts orange juice
Shake with ice, pour into wine glass and top off with ginger ale

 

I think we're done with Tacky for the moment... let's move on to BROKE-ASS DRANKIN. This is something I know kind of a lot about - Your Neighborhood Librarian has not always been the matron in the minivan toddling out of the Beltway Fine Wine with multiple bottles of better-than-decent booze. I've spent the much larger portion of my life carrying around a mental Rolodex of which stores had what brands of beer at a discount at any given time. Used to be we could get a 12-pack of Weidemann's from the Convenient Food Mart on Mayfield Road in Cleveland Heights for $3.55.

I think it's why I don't much like vodka. I had a roommate in Cleveland who didn't drink beer. She always bought Paramount vodka and frozen OJ and made these awful Screwdrivers. Ah, Paramount. Possibly the finest vodka distilled in the greater Cleveland metro area. And oh it burned. You could taste the heavy metals that spewed out of the steel plant smokestacks in that stuff's lingering aftertaste.




We're nothing if not thematic.

Johanna's 'Spent My Money on Romance Novels and Virginia Slims' Broke-Ass Screwdriver
can of frozen orange juice concentrate
about 8 oz vodka

1. You need a pitcher with a wide mouth. This is non-negotiable. If you have to borrow one from the lady down the hall, it's ok. We can wait.

Dump the frozen OJ into the pitcher. The instructions tell you to fill that OJ can with water 3x, right? You're just going to do two, and the third is going to be the vodka!
Stir with a spoon or something until the OJ melts. For best results, pour the whole thing into like an old plastic milk jug. This mixes the drink up and then you can cap it and put it in the fridge. YOU LABEL THAT JUG THOUGH OR YOUR ROOMMATE IS LIABLE TO KILL YOU.

If Jo was feeling extra fancy and still had that twenty from when grandma visited, she would buy a bottle of curacao or something else strong and sweet and add just a shot of it to her screwdriver jug, shaking it up afterwards. You could still taste the steel plants though.

Johanna would have to consider herself an amateur, however, in the face of the following defiant outburst. Joey Grey is a rock god who left Baltimore a few years ago for Austin motherfucking Texas.


This is Joey showing a very young
fan exactly how to rock. Photo by
Jules Jung, 2007.

Joey used to play in the fabulous all-girl band Secret Crush Society, providing a welcome jolt of gender confusion as well as hammerlike guitar prowess. He's got a new band in Austin and is currently working as a pedicabber so I think it's fair to say that when he gets home and says he's tired, he's probably TIRED. I saw this on his Facebook page and BEGGED him to let me use it here:

"Children, I can deal with cold. I can deal with rain. But cold and rain together = despondent Joseph. Normally, I am not a fan of drinking at home by myself, however, I was able to put together a quick, easy method of making some hot spiced wine, or mulled wine. This is some next level festive shit, y'all.

Hot Ghetto Fabulous Spiced Wine

1/2 cup of sugar
1 tsp of ground nutmeg
2 tbsp of McCormick's Pumpkin Pie Spice Mix (contains: cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, allspice)
1 box of Franzia wine, Red

Put dry ingredients into a 1 quart sauce pan. Fill the pan up about halfway with wine. Cook on low heat for about 15-20 minutes. Get drunk with your dog while watching Star Trek: The Next Generation.
Real mulled wine recipes call for cloves and cinnamon sticks and orange zest and shit. Motherfucker, I ain't driving to the store in this weather. THIS IS WHAT I HAVE, MARTHA STEWART, AND THIS IS WHAT WE'RE USING."

I think I better let Joey have the last word. Tomorrow is Saturday. (Note how I am keeping tabs on that kind of thing this year - I have fucked up the order of the days at least once the other two times I have done this and I am determined to not screw it up this year.) But I have no clue what we're doing tomorrow. We'll have to see what inspires me. There are two parties tonight so... anything could happen!