The Cocktail Alphabet from Hell

In Hyperlink from Hell, we first met Jimmie — unlikeliest of heroes, one of our two narrators — in Mexico, where the red-headed bombshell, Monique, was sipping her way through the cocktail alphabet.  “I knew she was cheating,” he thought. “She had to be. No one could survive all that booze, so her drinks were probably virgins. So what? If we made it to “S,” she’d promised me a double round of Sex on the Beach under the Tequila Sunrise.”

In honor of that (and inspired by Rachel Maddow, a non-fiction hero who also has a thing for cocktails), here’s the Cocktail Alphabet from Hell. (All cocktail recipes are from Please visit them!):

A is for Adios Motherfucker. (Which makes you wonder: Why didn’t Jimmie get the fuck out while he was still conscious?)

B is for Babymama Drama. (Hello? What was Jimmie thinking? “There’s a Bulge in my Pants“?)

C is for Cake Mix. It was Jimmie’s birthday, after all. Was it so bad to wish for Crotchless Panties instead of a Closed Coffin?

D is for Death Wish.

E is for Ectoplasm.

F is for falling Face First over his First Love.

G is for the Gates of Hell guarded by Grass-Skirted Pygmies.

H is for Hemingway.

I is for I See Dead People.

J is for James the Second Comes First.

K is for Ka-boom.

L is for Lady Killer.

M is for Meloncholy Baby.

N is for Jimmie having No Fucking Idea what’s going on.

O is for the Original Zombie in an Open Grave.

P is for Pina Colada, with or without cigarette ash.

Q is for “a Quaalude for me, and a Quickie for the gentleman.”

R is for Red Rasputin.

The Alphabet ends here. It always ends here. (Because R is really for Roofie.) There is no Sex on the Beach under the Tequila Sunrise.

One response

  1. […] The Cocktail Alphabet from Hell […]

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