- Bacon?
- Shrimp?
- Cornichons?
- Olives?
- Lobster tail?
- Cool ranch Doritos?
- Lemon?
- Used bandaid?
- Cheeseburger slider?
- Jello shot?
- Old Bay Garnish?
- Tomolives?
- Cheddar Block?
- Fresh roadkill?
- Oysters?
- Cured Garlic Cloves?
A Bloody Mary is a drink. It is not a meal. It is not gazpacho with spirits. I want to answer two questions–and two questions only–when it comes to my Bloody Mary order:
- What kind of vodka do I want? Absolut Peppar if you have it, whatever else if you don’t.
- How spicy do I want it? I want the horseradish to burn off any and all nose hairs.
A garnish is a small compliment to a drink. Acceptable Bloody Mary garnishes include sliced pickle, celery stick, or skewer green olives. A fried chicken leg is not a garnish.
Why do Americans have to ruin everything? I don’t like a Bloody Mary bar. I don’t want Ted from Billerica sneezing into the carafe of Clamato. I don’t like to “do it myself.” I don’t need boostraps to tackle my hangover.
Why do Americans have to make everything so…EXTRA? Morgan Spurlock needs a new documentary, focusing on the out of control Bloody Mary trend. It’s like there is a game of food Jenga going on in my highball glass and I’m sick of it.
Stop it, right now.
Girl, bye.
Stop putting to words “drink” and “porn” together.