Paris Hilton, Brazilian Weasels, and Other Fleeting Expletives

So it's been a bit since I've blogged.  I'm getting lazy, I suppose.  But in truth, I'm trying to avoid making so many entries that are nothing more than glimpses into my dull routine.  This may be, in fact, an online diary, but that doesn't mean I need to bore you with entries about my daily life.

That being said, this past weekend was an unusual one for me, in that I had not one, but two dates.  And not with the same person, either.

Last Monday night, I placed an ad on Craigslist.  It was a long, somewhat rambling kind of thing, that was "inspired" by the fact that I'd made the mistake of watching a romantic comedy while I was already somewhat depressed.  Naturally, this made me feel worse, and so I posted. 

I don't know what I expected.  Maybe a small handful of responses.  All told, I got over a dozen, which did surprise me.  I replied to all of them, though I could tell from the initial emails that there was no way we'd really hit it off.  But there were three or four that stood out.  Well, I've now met in person with two of them.  One of them, I might meet this weekend.  No plans, yet, to meet anyone else. 

How'd the dates go?  Okay, I guess.  I really like both of them, but so far, I'm not feeling anything beyond friendship for them.  But y'know what?  That's perfectly fine.  I honestly never expected to find any sort of romance from the post.  But if I get a couple good friends?  That's successful.


Well, something else did come out of one of the dates: a new drink!

One of the girls told me a story of a report she'd done in grade school.  The report was on the country of Brazil.  And she got completely fascinated by the Brazilian weasel (known as the Coati).  Her report consisted largely of facts about this animal (which got her a bad grade and a "talking to" from her teacher for not taking the assignment seriously or something like that).

I said, "The Brazilian Weasel... that's a cocktail name if ever I heard one."

So I did a little research.  First, I learned that the national drink of Brazil is Cachaça.  This is a type of rum, but made from sugar cane, rather than molasses.  Next, I looked up the word "weasel" on Webtender.  I only found one drink that included that in the name.  It was made from tequila, rum 151, lemon juice, and sugar.  Well, I wanted it to be different, so I decided that the Brazilian Weasel should be Cachaça, Coke, and lemon juice.

Please don't drink this.  It's vile.

But y'know, the other beverage I think of when I think of Brazil is... yeah... coffee.  So, please do try this one:

        The Brazilian Weasel

• 1 oz. Cachaça
• 1 oz. Café de Nuit
• 1 oz. Half-and-Half

Yummers.

Oh, just my thoughts on the Cachaça...  It's not that great.  I bought the 2-year old, "aged" version.  Still pretty harsh stuff.  On the other hand, the bottle of 12-year old Zaya rum I bought last week?  Wow.  Awesome.

So in the news today, I read a couple things of interest.  Well, okay, the first one is of morbid interest, and that's Paris Hilton has now begun her jail sentence.  She's been really whining a lot about this.  C'mon, bitch, it's 23 days!  In solitary confinement for 23 hours a day, for that matter!  Shit, if I ever did go to prison, I'd want solitary.  Three weeks sitting around doing nothing?  Hell, that's a vacation, to me.

But for Paris?  Poor bimbo had to call her shrink and complain that she couldn't eat or sleep and that her cell was "freezing cold."

Oy.  Y'know, I had more to say about this loser, but why bother?


Moving on...

"Fleeting Expletives" are now okay on prime time TV.  Yeah, the courts have said the FCC needs to lighten the hell up.

About fucking time.

Anyone who thinks their children don't already hear cuss words in school is living in a fantasy.  And anyone who wants the TV to be their babysitter needs a smack upside the head, anyway.

I'm not saying that kids shouldn't be made aware that certain language is inappropriate in certain circumstances.  But it's not too bright to "shelter" them from language that exists in the real world, in some vain hope that they'll never use such words.