The Taste of Mutton, Honey, is Gonna Tempt Your Tummy

[100acrewoods]

Diary, a Rum-and-Coke is a slander to rum and a besmirchment of Coke. Libelled libations, litterateurs!

I went to the company Christmas party, and what The Rapture says is true: "People don't dance no more". But, they still drink. The merit of the Rum-and-Coke is that any idiot could make it. And, at many social functions, your only choice of bartender IS an idiot.

Bartender: "Grumble grumble"

I: "I'd like to expend one of my two drink tickets on a Mai Tai"

Bartender: "Whus that?"

I: "Or a Rum Runner?"

Bartender: "Whus innit?"

I: "Or a Scorpion? Take the sting of the scorpion!"

Bartender: "You want a buttery nipple?"

I: "Oh, hon, my nipples are buttery enough!" (???)

I: "How about a chocolate milk?"

Bartender: "Here's your Rum-and-Coke"

Friend: "The older lady in Human Resources who looks like Dame Edna gave me a stack of drink tickets. I've got an extra creamy White Russian!! What did they mix you?"

I: "That girl mixologist tried to blend Erasure with Depeche Mode"

Friend: "Inscrutable! How is it?"

I: "It sends up a Red Flag"

Diary, when I glimpse the Narwahl, the Narwahl glimpses back at me.