Chopin, Glacier, and Colorado Bulldogs

There ought to be a law, it seems to me, requiring every writer's blog to begin with a cocktail recipe. Actually, even better, there ought to be a law prohibiting writers from keeping blogs at all -- or, if not that, then at least a law prohibiting them from doing precisely what I'm doing now: writing in their newly created blogs inane introductions about keeping blogs. But if they're determined to begin a blog and, what's more, determined to write an initial inane post about keeping a blog, then the least they could do is offer something useful as well: like precise instructions for how to make the perfect absinthe sazerac or perhaps, in deference to The Mountain Goats lyrics inscribed on the front wall of The Ganesha Hotel, a quick, down-and-dirty recipe for the colorado bulldog. But the only liquor I drink, really, is vodka, and the only vodka I drink is Glacier, a potato vodka made in Idaho. It's relatively cheap -- much cheaper than the other wonderful potato vodka, Chopin -- and absolutely without the medicinal taste of all those wheat vodkas people drink (like Absolut and Grey Goose, both of which I'm presenting without links because I've already proven to myself that I've learned how to do links) mostly because they've never tried potato vodkas. Okay. That's it. Alcohol. Cute Picture of a Dog. Great indie band reference. Popular culture catch-phrase, quoted ironically (Soon-to-come.) Esoteric interests established. This first post is so done. Stay thirsty, my friends.