Yeah, my voice is as raspy as can be… still. I feel like uttering one of Pleshette’s throwaway lines from Hot Stuff, like “Hey, gun slinger… who did you arrest today, a guy with a tuba?” But as soon as I would say it, I would quickly realize that nobody would get the reference, or care, or perhaps even understand my scratchy voice. Oh, to love a film that most have forgotten, and to love it dearly. Oh, to sound like you opened up a can of tuna with your neck. But, I’m still alive, and there are a lot better things out there to worry about!
I just ordered my copy of Autobiography of Mark Twain, Vol. 1. Like everybody else in the reading world, I understand the book’s release to be a huge moment in publishing. I have been looking forward to it for quite a long time, and now that my life will become a tiny bit more stable, I can start chewing away at something so magnificent. Twain was simply one of the most brilliant and insightful minds ever, whose ideas still seem fresh and relevant today. How can any sane person not be excited about writings that have been locked up for 100 years, penned by the master, himself?
I’m sipping bitter lemon tea with Southern Comfort tonight. Oh, I adore Southern Comfort. I have a slew of old promotional bartender guides, which show you how you can make any drink better by replacing the base liquor with Southern Comfort. In many cases it works extremely well (if you happen to like Southern Comfort). But the one that gets all my attention and accolades is the Comfort Manhattan, which I have been enjoying again (and again) after years of forgetting its glory.
Here is the recipe, I go by:
2 oz. Southern comfort, 1/2 oz. dry vermouth, a dash of Angostura bitters, a twist of lemon peel
Stir together with ice cubes and serve.
Okay, I think I have confused you all enough. May your week be one of joy and good fortune!