Humor
Readers, it's tough to stay ahead of the culinary curve in a city like San Francisco. Here at Uptown Almanac, we try to keep you, our foodie readers, abreast of the hottest trends in cocktailology, foodification, and general eatistry. We know that your discerning palates won't accept just any burrito, even if its strapped to your hands and inserted forcefully down your gullet. Uptown authors have sacrificed their stomachs, intestinal tracts, taste buds, and self-respect in the name of keeping you informed. Today we bring you the most recent installation in this pursuit.
Cheeto-infused vodka is the final frontier in trashy American drinking. We can't even tell you how we came up with this idea, but when you hang out at bars like Clooney's, sometimes inspiration comes in mysterious forms. Read on, fellow maverick drinkers, as we walk you through the step by step process of making (and enjoying!) a Cheeto-infused vodka shot of your very own.
Step One: Put Fergie's "Glamorous" on the jukebox. Flossy flossy!
Step Two: Order a shot of well vodka, neat.
Step Three: Open your bag of crunchy Cheetos and select the two beefiest, most robust curls to use in your shot. Set them aside, protected from your friends' grabby hands. Devour all remaining weak, puny Cheetos before proceeding.
Step Four: Place your finest Cheeto specimens in the vodka shot. They will float at first. This is because Cheetos are mostly air. That's why they're a health food; your body spends more calories digesting all that air than are in each Cheeto. It's science. Anyway, be patient with your floaty Cheetos as they will eventually absorb enough vodka to sink. Pound a beer while you wait to fortify your insides for the assault to follow.
Step Five: Gently prod your Cheetos to aid in vodka absorbtion and general mixification. Like so:
Prod prod prod. Proddy prod prod.Step Six: Your Cheeto shot should now be ready for consumption. But wait! Here lies the best part about the Cheeto shot - it's a two-part treat! One part shot, one part tasty vodka soaked Cheeto. Remove Cheetos from the vodka, and pop 'em in your mouth. At first you feel like you have a normal but somewhat wet and soggy Cheeto in your mouth. But then you bite into it, and your mouth is suddenly filled with an acidic, lukewarm geyser of Popov's vodka and MSG. Mmm mmm tasty! Results should look something like this:
Step Seven: Take the shot. You know how this is done. Expect a reaction similar to this:
The bitterness of the vodka is quickly overwhelmed by the perverted pang of MSG. The assault of the Cheeto shot befuddles the tastebuds and confuses the mind of the consumer. It's so disgusting, you don't want to swallow it - yet you know that holding it in your mouth is the only thing worse than swallowing. Cheeto-infused vodka is the ultimate bridge between childhood and adulthood, where your whimsy and youthful sense of adventure compels you to find new uses for your favorite childhood snack and your favorite adult beverage. It's the perfect balance, for when you want both vodka and cheese without the inconvenience of consuming both separately.
Estimated Cost: $5 ($4 vodka shot, $1 baggie of Cheetos from behind the bar)
Previously on Uptown Almanac
Have you seen this guy Chicken John about?
Like who is he, and what is he on about?
Guess I could read his book
but I think that it looks
like just one more thing for me to yawn about
Though I hear, now that he’s a nice manderslice
to my liking, his jamz cease to panderslice
sure, he may be chill
but not fitting my bill
for I’ve had quite enough of John Vanderslice
Though I’d never call this girl a wus
she sure isn’t the brightest of us
but despite my roll-eyeing
there’s just no denying
Kelly Kate sure did pee *on that bus
*out the window of
*is this how one uses asterisks?
Michael Krasny hosts this talk show Forum
but I’d much rather have him for Purim
he is worldly and wise
I just simply despise he’s
yet to return my fan mail for ‘im
Julie Schuchard of Trike Records fame
kicked me out of a bar, that was lame
well I may have been twenty
and drinking a plenty
but I think she’s the worst all the same
One time she did something retarded
my enjoyment of that was wholehearted
she peed out the bus window
nothing rhymes with window
this limerick is also about Kelly Kate and it ends with the word farted
Dude, have you guys ever been to Blow Up?
No, I’m good off seeing ‘burbs kids throw up
Jeffrey Paradise, dear
I think it’s pretty clear
that the end of your limerick is grow up
Though his father is Phil of Philz Coffee-a
Jacob looks like a dude in the mafia
he’s the dudeliest guy
but we all wonder why
he allows employees to blast Ska-fia
Save KUSF is unhealthy
why fundraise? Your school is so wealthy!
Just buy a new station
and stop this complai’tion
we’re starting to think you guys smell-thy
Why did all the Kennedys die?
Just ask Jello, I’m sure he knows why
but this guy shows up
at events and I have to
listen to him rant on about how he hates Gavin Newsom and shit seriously shut up Jello Biafra
Disclaimer: none of these people are actually that bad, except for all the aforementioned people whose names begin with J who aren’t John Vanderslice. Just to clarify, shut up Jello Biafra.
When I forget to call ahead to Rhea's and there's a 25 minute wait ...
Walking into work on Thursday morning after Whiskey Wednesday at Benders ...
When my crush checks in on Foursquare at the same bar I'm at ...
When I'm at Dolores and the weed truffle guy is out of cinnamon truffles ...
When I'm getting coffee at Four Barrel and they tell me they don't "do" skim milk ...
When I walk by a bunch of Capp st hookers ...
When my mom calls me after hearing about another shooting on my corner ...
When my friend tells me she met her new boyfriend on Instagram ...
This friendly PSA found in Potrero del Sol is brought to you by paranoia, the NYC Skateboarding Authority, and wheatpaste.
We've heard about Vayable before--you know, the 'travel experiences' website that enables enterprising Joe Somebodys to offer supposedly authentic tours of their locales. We've seen 'em in action before, first with a tour of Tenderloin homelessness and then again with a $30 wine and cheese insult picnic in Dolores Park. What fun!
It seems Vayable is still in business and there's a new (!!!) tour of Dolores Park: a $25 dollar per-person journey into "The Life of a Hipster." That's right, noted graphic designer "Stefan" will show you the PBR-soaked ropes of Dolores Park culture, even offering to give you a pair of knock-off Wayfarers to complete your afternoon.
The thing is, I don't trust these tour guides. Anyone offering to give a tour of the park immediately calls the legitimacy of said tour into suspicion. Just look at that picture: not only does that dog not have any tats, but that guy's shorts aren't jorts. And you expect this to be a genuine tour of hipster culture?
I'd like to offer a counter tour of Dolores Park. A tour of the real Dolores Park. Below, a sample itinerary of your three hours in the park:
2:00pm - Tour/hangout begins.
2:25pm - I show up 25 minutes late looking haggard, listless, and easily confused. I'll blame my alarm, which "didn't go off again, I totally swear."
2:26pm - I take a seat on the grass, noting that "I don't think I want to start drinking yet" and "I've been trying to take it easy lately." Everyone nods in agreement.
2:29pm - Cold Beer, Cold Water walks by, serenading us with his siren song one for three, two for five.
2:30pm - Five dollars poorer and two PBRs richer.
2:42pm - Speculate that none of our friends are in the park yet because "it's too fucking early" and express surprise that we're even up ourselves.
2:48pm - Everyone collectively glares in the general direction of a growing drum circle.
3:00pm - iPhones begin to buzz with requests for "brunch?"
3:01pm - "naw 2 pbrs deep in dolo. bring tecate?"
3:02pm- *Error: Message Send Failure*
3:17pm - Huddle together and devise a plan to hide from the girl you fucked last week that's walking towards our group.
3:19pm - Talk to her anyway.
3:21pm - Report the conversation was "no big deal."
3:31pm - Complain that "the weed truffle dude" hasn't been in the park allllll day.
3:32pm - Friends begin to trickle into the park. They brought beer and it's Modelo Especial. Assholes.
3:34pm - Reprimand a neighboring park-goer for listening to Cut Copy over iPhone speakers. I mean, really?
3:42pm - Trade a dude in a Ninja Turtles t-shirt a $6.70 BART card for a jumbo weed cookie.
3:49pm - Attempt to hit on cute girl in a tattered Black Sabbath t-shirt by remarking how much better English rock was in the 1970s. After being completely ignored, walk away hoping no one sees you.
3:58pm - Grumble about all the "shitty dubstep" being played in the park. Be corrected by your smart-ass friend, noting that "it's more witchhaus than dubstep."
4:03pm - Survey the thousands of fellow cool kids in the park, observing that "nothing is really going on today" and recollect "how much more action" was in the park last week.
4:09pm - Pose for photos with a guy masturbating under a blank as a backdrop.
4:21pm - Call Rhea's and order a vegan sando from a recovering heroin addict.
4:32pm - Your friend Tim turns up, seeing you checked in Foursquare. He's standing 10 feet away from you and trying to call you. You reach for your phone, unsuccessfully, and grunt "I guess I'll hang out with him later."
4:58pm - TCB Courier delivers your sando, because there was "no fucking way" you were walking two blocks "in this fucking heat."
5:00pm - My iPhone alarm starts ringing. The tour is over. I stand up, throw two dollars in change in your face and wish you a "horrible Muni ride home."
5:43pm - You're still standing at the corner of 16th and Guerrero, wondering if the 22 will ever show up. I'm hunkered over the Pop's bar, squandering my hard-earned tour guide money on bloody mary's and bitching about all the drunk Marina types ruining the park.
That'll be 25 dollars please.
Previously on Uptown Almanac
I'm up in Olympia, WA - kickin' it with a bunch of forest gnomes who were kind enough to let me use their scanner so as to please you city dwellers with my personal ad funny pages.
Previously on Uptown Almanac
Host Chris Thayer delivers the pitch:
What better way to celebrate Cinco de Mayo than to completely ignore it by attending a makeshift comedy show at a used clothing store?
Other than dialing up a mariachi band from a glorified cab company and/or going to Chevys (p.s. - I love Chevys), I can't think of anything that could possibly top this. 8pm at Afterlife Boutique, people.
Previously on Uptown Almanac
JJ San witnessed this scene and has an observation to share:
For years, scientists have debated how and if stupidly-baggy pants would stay on if the wearer was arrested and handcuffed. Wonder no more.
Recent comments
2 hours 35 min ago
7 hours 29 min ago
7 hours 37 min ago
13 hours 48 min ago
14 hours 47 min ago
15 hours 19 min ago
17 hours 42 min ago
1 day 7 hours ago
1 day 7 hours ago
1 day 7 hours ago