Hey! Buy This Fucking Book!

You see the person pictured down below? This is Vesta Vayne, and she’s an internet friend of mine. An internet friend is someone you meet online, usually on a blog or in a series of comment posts, that you communicate with on a semi-regular basis, forming a bond over common experiences and similar outlook. That is, you do this until you realize that the person you thought you were getting to know is actually a disgusting 60 year old sex offender from Baltimore who has been jerking it to every single one of your emails. That, my friends, is the magic of the internet.

But Vesta does not display the key traits shared by old deves: She has never asked me to don a schoolgirl outfit, she’s never asked if I’ve hung around bus station bathrooms, and she’s never asked me if I’d like to make some real easy money. So I trust her. I met her through her website the Cowardly Feminist. Normally, I wouldn’t go anywhere near a web site with that name because I’m a true guy, and the only thing I know about feminism is that when I tell my wife to make me a fucking sandwich, I have to smile to show her I’m not serious and then go make it myself.

Vesta Vayne does NOT live in Baltimore.

But her site is well written, witty, and most importantly tells me how to get shithouse wasted every Friday through her weekly series of posts, Cocktail Time. In these posts, Vesta tells you how to make a cocktail that I would never in a million years have made when I was in college. Back then, the more time alcohol spent in the bottle, the more time you were not enjoying life to the fullest, by which I mean vomiting on a cop’s shoes. Seriously, let the drink marinate OVERNIGHT? You’d have better odds of asking me to break the 20 second mile than to get me to leave a drink in the fridge overnight. The fuck?

But as I grew older and had kids, an amazing thing happened: I was forced to learn a little patience. Now in order to get properly sloshed, my wife and I need to find a niece willing to babysit the kids overnight, we need to book a room somewhere, figure out what we’re going to be doing while we’re drinking, and on and on and on. In other words, my kids have sucked the spontaneity right out of me. I will get them for this if it is the last thing I do (and it very well may be).

So although I am somewhat of an alcohol gourmand (which is a fancy way of saying I’m a soak) some of Vesta’s concoctions are new to me. In fact, most of them are. I mean, c’mon, mixers? What the fuck is that? But her drinks are delicious and I have come to learn that there are other things to judge gin by than how quickly I can get it out of the bottle.

I Goole image-searched the phrase "guzzling booze" and it came up with a picture of James Woods. Quite clearly, he is a raging alcoholic. Get help, James! You are a worthless, booze-soaked sponge. Get help! I'm sure he'll appreciate that.

And now you can gather over 20 of these delicious drinks in a book Vesta has written. You can find it here for the low, low price of… What the fuck? $2.99?!? Ok, quite clearly this is a front for an international cocaine smuggling ring, because that price is crazy low. You should go over there right now and buy a copy or twelve. Oh, and if you have a tablet, like an iPad or the Kindle Fire, load it up on there because the photography is wonderful and you need a nice screen to fully appreciate it.

I’m not kidding, guys, fucking go get that bad boy. If you don’t, I hope you become homeless and all your pets die of chlamydia. Oh, and hey, she wrote another book too: Human Resources, Martinis & Other Bad Things. Let me state for the record that while I have purchased this book, I have yet to read it. This is because I am immersed in a tome of Egyptian pornography, and getting off on hieroglyphics is time consuming to say the least. But I am sure that HRMAOBT is excellent as well and makes dipshit authors like Tolstoy look like the bunch of talentless hack fucks they are. So go buy that too.