AJ Daulerio's Cultural Oddsmaker runs every Friday. Email him to let him know what you think.
Everybody's got a no-no drink in their arsenal. Some people take a whiff of tequila and start gagging. Others can have one sip of gin and start fending off imaginary crocodiles with a bar stool. For me? It's scotch. Every time I've attempted to take part in "grown-up drinking," it's ended with me urinating in my pants. Literally. The three times in my life I've drank scotch, I've completely pissed myself. This is not while I'm sleeping, mind you. It's usually on the walk home from the bar. For whatever reason, scotch disrupts the brain-to-bladder communication mechanism, and I usually end up in a frantic sprint to either find a dark alley or get to the bathroom before I explode. Three times, I've lost and ended up taking a miserable walk home with a crotch area that resembled a Rorshach Test.
For Arizona Cardinals quarterback Matt Leinart, "sauvignon blanc" appears to be his no-no drink. Hopefully, it took more than one glass for him to open up to Yahoo football writer Michael Silver and bitch about his split-time quarterback situation. But what does Matt Leinart's admission that he wants be front-seat driver really tell us? It's more telling that Mr. Leinart is obviously not that much of a drinker. If I were a beat-reporter covering the Cardinals, I'd make sure to sign Leinart up for a booze of the month club ASAP. And when that happens, he shall spill.
So this week, I'm putting on my drinking pants, bad-touching a sommelier in the desert and placing odds on the other drinks that'll make Arizona's crestfallen quarterback say stupid shit.
Let's go pound some sediment, after this more.
Woo Woo Shots: 2/1
Lucky for Michael Silver, Leinart wasn't drinking this toxic combination of vodka, peach schnapps and cranberry juice, or "Fightin Lightnin," as some regular hardcore imbibers call them. After two Woo Woos, Leinart would most likely become very chesty and aggressive, pawing at women and challenging the stoutest of men to Indian-wrestling competitions. Ken Whisenhunt should make sure Leinart isn't spiking his water bottle a couple drops of "The Woo," or else he could find himself seeing a darker, angrier side of his part-time franchise quarterback.
These green menaces have been the downfall of many a virile man's evening. But it's not the two fingers of vodka that usually have a negative affect, but rather the Apple Pucker Schnapps that causes the problem. This mysterious green liquor has been the catalyst for many a night of irrational couple's arguments, inappropriate confessions to best friend's parents and an overwhelming urge to fall asleep to "August and Everything After."
Belisimo! Here's a tasty liquor that is very popular with T.J. Maxx-shopping mommies and Hollywood dwarves. The problem with these sickly sweet little numbers is that you can never gauge how many it'll take before it'll get ugly.
This high octane mixture of orange juice and champagne is the elixir of choice for many a peacocking debutante. It tends to make most women more garrulous, giggly and orgasmic. Pump a chick full of enough mimosas before 1 p.m., and you'll be beav-chomping in no time. Same thing goes for California-bred quarterbacks, who are also prone to whipping out their own vaginas at the first caress of a champagne flute.