5:00 Fridays

My friend Gerry "The Foghorn" inspired today's cocktail, and I'm hoping it's not foreboding for our upcoming jaunt to the beach. Can we be gracious guests and give Foghorn a hand, please? Not a hand like he's the old dude in Up who needs help crossing the street; I mean applause, people.

Here's the open target now for Foghorn to tell everyone I gave him the clap. Homonyms can make our language so unseemly.

I'm pretty sure there never has been, and likely never will be, a Hurricane named after me. It's a dubious claim to fame, but from a girl who never had personalized pencils and monogrammed towels, much a less a doll or Barbie who looked like me, I'll take infamy in place of fame. Then again, I bet no one is naming their babies Katrina these days. I do live with Hurricanes Bird and Deal, and I proudly pay my taxes in the city of the once-won-the-Stanley-Cup-and-then-sucked-like-a-Dyson-and-then-blew-chunks-in-the-playoffs Carolina Hurricanes.

And let's just say I've indulged in a Hurricane or five on my days of revelry in New Orleans.


Hurricane
1 ounce vodka (not the bottom shelf crap, folks)
splash of grenadine
1 ounce gin
1 ounce light rum
1/2 ounce Bacardi 151
1 ounce amaretto
splash of Triple Sec
3 ounces grapefruit juice
3 ounces pineapple juice
Vitamin B
2 Tylenol

Fill a tall glass with ice. Use a hurricane glass if you have one. It is important you pour everything into the glass in the order listed. Add the juices last. No need to stir, and if you indulge in a few of these you won't be stirring at all the next morning, at least not without pain and nausea. Garnish this cocktail with a pineapple slice. Be wary of slurping this goodness through a straw. This is a sipping libation. I speak from experience.

Take Vitamin B and Tylenol before going to bed.

Now let this be a reminder to check your emergency kits and windows! Cheers!