Backdraft in my pants.

Stop creating error!

People will mistake you for a mexicun!

Kind Sir,

Let it be known that several well-to-do gentlemen, a handful of ner-do-well's, and three Canadians had a late brunch of Earl Grey tea and poached eggs. While at this impromptu meeting, it was decided that..

You are hereby required to post MOAR!!!

Thank you

Annie in my pants.

Goldfinger in my pants

The Thing in my pants.

There is a bar on Bourbon Street in New Orleans. Alright, there are a massive assload of bars on Bourbon St, but I digress. I grew up in New Orleans, and as you may have figured out, I gravitate towards da booze. I spent many a night in the French Quarter, (seriously, put on a cheese Cajun accent, and you've got your pick of drunk tourist chicks, it's not even fair,) and I've spent a few mornings in the gutter, so trust me that I've had my fair share of booze.

Anyway, there is a bar in particular, Tropical Isle, which is memorable to me for two reasons. The first is that, while in there, one Saturday night, I had the misfortune of looking out the window to a terrible sight, a hairy HAIRY man's backside in a pair of ass-less chaps. The second one, however, is much better. Tropical Isle has a signature drink, called the Hand Grenade. The recipe is a closely guarded secret, however, my keen sense of taste in liquor helped me to concoct a reasonable knock off of a drink that will make your liver beg for mercy. Give it none, drink!


DrunkWino's Tear Gas Grenade:
1 1/2 oz gin
1 1/2 oz Everclear, or grain alcohol
1 1/2 oz Melon liqueur
1 1/2 oz Rum
1 1/2 oz vodka

You gotta fight for your right to party in my pants

Trainspotting in my pants
Mary Poppins in my pants.
I Wanna Hold Your Hand in my pants
It's A Wonderful Life in my pants
Mr. Woodcock in my pants

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Ummm, was the deal supposed to pay now, or later?