Britney Admits Baby Mistake

This just in from Reuters: Britney Spears admits to baby mistake. Before you jump to hopeful conclusions, I should clarify. She hasn't admitted that having the baby was a mistake, or that marrying Kevin Federline and allowing him to implant her with his seed was a mistake--only that driving with her baby on her lap was a mistake.*

I am hoping this is an important first step to admitting other mistakes. Like the other ones mentioned above, or any of the other inane mistakes that are too numerous to list here. She could start with easy mistakes, such as fashion faux pas below. Unfortunately, I don't expect that to happen. She could have the best intentions and then PopoZao! she falls off the wagon.

I think the best we can hope for is that Michael Jackson asks Britney to bring Sean Preston Spears Federline for a visit to Bahrain, and they so fall in love with the rolling sand dunes and inferno-like weather that they decide to stay. Forever. One can hope.

*I should probably cut Britney some slack regarding the whole baby endangerment incident. Apparently, she was being chased by paparazzi and afraid for her baby's life. I wish I had her nerves of steal. She looks so calm, and Kevin looks like he's lazily chatting with Vanilla Ice about being a white rapper with no respect.

Large Rodent Offers Meteorological Forecast

Global weather patterns are getting increasingly unpredictable. Even with sophisticated radar and satellite technology, it’s hard to predict how the weather will unfold.

Thank God for Punxsutawney Phil. Today, this mystic marmot predicted six more weeks of winter. In an uncertain world, it’s nice to know that we can count on one thing – a long winter. Eschewing modern forecasting techniques, P-Phil (as he’s known in the business) relied solely on seeing his shadow. Thanks to the rodent’s uncanny abilities, thousands of meteorologists can now take some time off.

Farmers across our great land are less enthusiastic about P-Phil’s prognostication. In fact, there have been rumors or a secret agrarian militia that is planning an attack to poke out the eyes of the beloved ground squirrel. In theory, this would ensure a short winter next year, as P-Phil would have no chance of catching a glimpse of his shadow - only strange memories of men with top hats pulling him out of a warm burrow at an ungodly hour of the morning.

Drinking Like It’s 1932

At first, I was upset to find my drink of choice skewered at WaiterRant.net. There is absolutely nothing wrong with a Sidecar. Actually, let me clarify, there is nothing wrong with wanting to order a Sidecar—what you actually get is another story.

I rarely order Sidecars anymore. It’s been my experience that most bartenders are only familiar with the bartending quick start guide, which limits its pages to trendy drinks like Cosmos, Lemon Drops and the proper way to serve a Bud Light. Whatever else is in there, it certainly doesn’t inform these sultans of swill that fresh lemon juice and sweet-and-sour mix are not the same thing.

If I am to believe WaiterRant.net, It’s a good thing that I’ve largely stopped ordering the Sidecar. According to his recent post, imbibers of this tasty concoction haven’t gotten any action since 1932. I beg to differ. I don’t like to have to beg, but sometimes it’s necessary.

Upon reading this slight on my favorite cocktail, I shrugged the criticism off as coming from someone who is incapable of appreciating a good drink. However, as I spied another favorite drink from the list, I thought maybe I did have a problem. Apparently, most people who enjoy sweet vermouth on the rocks were born in the 1800s. In my defense, I picked it up while living in England – and who's going to call the English stodgy or old fashioned?!

I begin to feel better when my friend Doug’s drink of choice, the Manhattan, was also singled out for being enjoyed by an octogenarian clientele. Luckily, my attitude was lifted when I noticed praise for some other favorite drinks, like the Negroni, Vodka Martini and Mojito.

In the end, I stand by my drinks. Call me a fuddy-duddy if you like, but I enjoy a good Sidecar.


(For the record, a good Sidecar should consist of a fine brandy or cognac, Cointreau and fresh lemon juice. A sugar rim can cut the tart for those so inclined. )