The Caged Baby is the drink for those nights when you wonder, “am I the bad guy?” And you definitely, definitely are. When you were grabbing some pussy, you told yourself, “actually, deep down, chicks dig it.” When you were hating on some black people, you told yourself, “I was just talking about the ‘bad’ ones.” When you were making fun of gay people, you weren’t quite sure whether they were being too sensitive or if they were infringing on your religious freedom. When you were hating on brown people, you told yourself that it’s only ‘illegal’ immigrants that you’re against even though you don’t know the first thing about immigration law; and your devotion to law and order gets a little less zealous when other skin colors are involved. And, besides, you are protecting our borders against foreign invasion! When you think about Native Americans . . . well, you try not to think too much about them because they mess up your narratives about inalienable property rights and defending the homeland and whatnot. But, when your side starts telling parents they’re taking the kids to get a shower and, instead, takes them away from mom and dad and puts the kids in cages, the self-righteous stories you tell yourself for ego-protection start to wear a little thin.
Ultimately, when you start pouring the Caged Baby, your only defense is probably that you aren’t the guy drinking the Murdered Puppy (almost certainly coming soon).
The Caged Baby
- 1 oz tequila
- ½ oz lime juice
- ½ oz simple syrup
- 4 oz champagne
Combine tequila, lime juice, and simple syrup into a shaker full of ice. Strain into a champagne flute and combine with champagne.
As Commodore Perry observed the last time we fought the Canadians, we have met the enemy, and he is us. (“Wasn’t Commodore Perry fighting the United Kingdom?” you might ask. Shut up, nerd.) After 203 years, a relationship starts to get stale. Even a man renown the world over for his steadfast loyalties like President Trump is bound to crave some novelty. Canada is reliable, polite, and doesn’t want to cause a fuss. If you get in a fight with Canada, you can be pretty sure that you’re the asshole. In a word, frumpy old Canada is boring.
Common wisdom says that you don’t put your dick in crazy. But there’s nothing common about Donny Two Scoops. He’s the best. Kim Jong Un is exciting, young, and has low expectations. He’s unpredictable. Erotically cruel. What’s it going to be? Good Kim funneling piles of cash earned by exploiting his slave population into Trump Organization properties? Or is it going to be Bad Kim launching a nuclear weapon into an ally’s population center? The uncertainty is . . . mmmm, delicious. You what else is delicious? The Canadian Conflict!
The Canadian Conflict
- 2 ounces rye whiskey or bourbon
- 1 teaspoon pure maple syrup
- Dash of Angostura bitters
- Orange peel (for garnish)
Pairs well with Glowing Guam (pg. 30, volume II) and The Rocket Man (pg. 33, volume II).
Some days you just can’t win. You’re going about your life, living the dream, hanging out with powerful people, paying off porn stars like it’s your job, and BAM, the FBI shows up on your doorstep and raids all your files.
It’s a bummer.
Have no fear, Mr. Cohen, we’re here to help. That’s what we do. Fix up this drink to help you cope with your impending disbarment and probable prison sentence.
The FBI Raid
- 2 oz vodka
- 1 oz Bailey’s Irish Cream
- 1 oz coffee liquor
- 3 oz vanilla ice cream
Blend all ingredients with 1.5 cups of crushed ice. Top with whipped cream and a cherry.
Pairs well with the Dark and Stormy, but not The Trump.