drinking up candidates
by Jason Bradley
Published: January 11, 2008
Thankfully someone has finally pulled ahead of the pack.
While Sens. Hillary Clinton and John Edwards have seemingly survived the second round of the caucus cacophony and primary pounding, Sen. Barack Obama has one-up on his rivals: he has a beer named after him.
That’s right, in the Kenyan Nyanza Province, where Obama’s father was born, you can sidle up to the bar and suck down a tall glass of Obama beer.
Alright, the beer is officially called “Senator,” but Kenyans are so proud of their nearly-native son that most have forgotten the beer’s real name. And they like it that way.
But what about our other candidates?
Hasn’t Hillary earned her own cup of cheer?
And while, when I close my eyes at night, I picture Ms. Clinton wetting her whistle with a cold Long Island iced tea or a Manhattan, she’s more likely compounding coconut rum and Zima into a sinful adulteration that has been alluded to as a “Clinton,” but goes by another, more-common name (look it up).
Being of simpler folk, I propose the “Edwards” be any type of fruit juice poured into a tub of cheap, clear liquor - something the Middle Class and college kids can relate to. But the price of the tub it’s served in should be such that it shocks even the staunchest sot.
The “Mitt” is a glass of milk. No, water. No… milk. Yes, milk.
The “Huckabee” is simply moonshine from his cousin’s still - who also happens to be Mitt Romney’s 11th cousin twice removed.
The “Ex-New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani” is nine parts high-end scotch and eleven parts club soda all served in a asbestos-lined lead chalice that is sure to cause anyone who volunteers to down one to contract an insidious illness (*Rudy Giuliani not held responsible to provide health care to those that volunteered so-named libations as they were not contracted with the great City of New York at the time said imbibitions).
Ron Paul deserves a drink. And while the conservative blend of tastes and ingredients is fairly solid and could appeal to a larger audience, the lack of name recognition and advertising would cause it to garner, at best, five percent of the drinking masses.
The “McCain Martini” is best served straight - but mixes well with a little hint of crazy. It’s also known as the “Kucinich” and the “Gravel.”
Don’t be fooled by the “Alan Keyes” - it’s better known as a White Cosmopolitan.
A delightful blend of tequila, triple sec, lime juice and a hint of Cointreau makes a perfect margarita called the “Hunter.” It’s served with a brass ring behind a ten-foot tall wall that is nearly impassable.
The “Biden,” “Dodd” and “Richardson” all promise to be the next best drink, but in the end each turns out to be a shot in the dark, over before you realize you’ve been served.
But anything’s gotta be better than drinking the swill that’s been shoved down our throats since the eighties. I mean, who drinks Bus(c)h any more?
So, go ahead barkeep, pour me a pint of promise or a chalice of change.
Just give me something to wash down this jagged pill we call modern America.
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Read about Edward’s money trouble: “broke bloke with no hope”
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