Crystal Head vodka, Dan Ackroyd’s side venture, is packaged in a, yes, crystal skull, meant to reference the mysterious crystal skulls of Mesoamerica. Now a very bored forensic sculptor has taken one of the decanters and reconstructed the face of the human behind it. Sure. Why not? It’s vodka; you’re supposed to go a little crazy, right?
The company says, “Forensic artist Nigel from Scotland shared these incredible images with us. Check it out how he’s using his empty CHV bottles!”
That dude is wasted. So would you be, if you had a head full of vodka. We can all drink to that, in these sassy Doom Crystal Skull Head Vodka Shot Glasses.
But wait, I think I recognize him!]]>
As my friend on Facebook said, “There’s a reason everyone was going to Freudian analysts in the ’50’s.”]]>
As one does.
The Sourtoe cocktail is a real thing, and has been a real thing in Dawson City since the Seventies, 1973 to be exact, when a severed human toe turned up in a boat. You know, as they do. It’s even inspired a book: The Sourtoe Cocktail Club: The Yukon Odyssey of a Father and Son in Search of a Mummified Human Toe … and Everything Else!
Well, being Northerners, it occurred to the locals that the best thing they could do with their toe booty would be to preserve it in salt, then charge tourists outrageous prices to drink a cocktail with this most Goth of all garnishes in it. In the beginning, the cocktail was a beer mug full of Champagne, but soon enough they realized that using expensive ingredients cut into the margin and besides, they wanted to cater to the Bacardi and Coke crowd too, so they allowed people to order whatever they liked, “Sourtoe style” and charged them premium rates.
The rule was, the toe had to touch the lips, and many a toetippler would pose for commemorative photos brandishing the brown and shriveled appendage like a stubby cigar. Naturally, when tourists are paying $20 a shot for Canadian Club with a toe in it, and $5 a shot for CC without, it behooves one to take care with one’s toes, and to put exorbitant fines on anyone who would masticate or otherwise abscond with or damage said tootsie-section. In the Seventies, $500 was a big fine. Not so much today, as one American tourist reportedly knew. He was the (hero? No. Protagonist? No.) nouveau riche or at least nouveau flush in the first paragraph, who apparently had done his homework (there’s a website whose design apparently dates from the 90’s. The 1890’s) and thought the boasting rights were worth the money.
Hell, any fool can get bottle service, but how many can talk about the time they committed cannibalism legally?]]>
This solid silver monkey highball straw would be a fine start to the birthday haul. Yes, it is solid sterling silver from Tiffany. Yes, it is utterly ridiculous. The latter is why I covet it.
In any case, I ran across this on Etsy and given my well-known weakness for a man in a mask, had to put it on the Birthday Registry. You can ship it to “raincoaster, c/o Legion, Vancouver, BC.”]]>