I find a few sausage, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwiches and chocolate milk do the trick, but I’d eat those every day if I could. I’m always dubious of claims to national consensus, but this is especially ridiculous. Is our national hangover cure really tomato juice and eggs? I thought it was hair of the dog, or beer and eggs. Friends of mine have been so concerned by the challenge that they’ve developed Biba, an electrolyte rich mixer that’s supposed to reduce the risk of hangover from the start (join their Facebook group to learn more).

John McCain’s election team apparently told staff at The Phoenix Biltmore to have extra whisky on hand for their election party tonight. They’re not just planning to drown their sorrows: Republicans and Republican-leaning independents drink more whisky than the national average.

Sweet photo by Bearfaced, though I almost used this picture of barrels (or this one).

Sure, Clinton played his sax on TV, Bush groped Angela Merkel, but Boris Yeltsin gave speeches drunk, tossed women into the water, danced on stage, and generally did all manner of laughable things. But he also turned back a hardline coup by jumping atop a tank and dragged Russia kicking and screaming toward democracy.

Not since cigar chomping, Scotch drinking Winston Churchill led Britain through World War II has the world had a more colorful leader. The Canadian Broadcasting Company called it “strange behavior,” noting:

Yeltsin’s behaviour became increasingly bizarre during his years in office as rumours of excessive drinking swirled. In 1994, the burly, bear-like Yeltsin jumped on the stage during a visit to Germany to conduct a brass band while singing and dancing. Later the same year, he failed to get off a plane during an official visit to Ireland. Russian officials told Irish officials that Yeltsin was unwell, while the common belief among journalists covering the visit was that he was drunk.

In 1997, he unexpectedly announced during a visit to Sweden that he would cut Russia’s nuclear arsenal by one-third and work toward a total world ban on nuclear weapons. Russian officials scrambled to correct the president.

The following year, during a banquet with Pope John Paul II, Yeltsin toasted his “love of Italian women,” and on another occasion, played wooden spoons on the balding head of Askar Akayev, the president of ex-Soviet state Kyrgyzstan.

He made headlines in Canada for taking former Canadian prime minister Brian Mulroney boar hunting in 1993, a move that angered animal activists.

Yeltsin was born to a poor peasant family in the Ural mountains and studied engineering and worked as a construction manager before joining the Communist party.

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I read enough of this to get a good laugh, but not enough to understand if it was serious or not. Some of it reads like satire, but other parts as are dry as, well, they’re dry (who really needs a simile anyway, they’re just dry, okay?).

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Modern Drunkard Magazine suggests we chase the snakes out of our minds, for as Yeats reminds us:

The problem with some people is that when they’re not drunk, they’re sober.

(Ryan points out that you can have that quote, along with three others from quipsters Dylan Thomas, W.C. Fields, and Oscar Wilde on shot glasses.)

But Modern Drunkard and Yeats (despite his fine heritage) have it wrong. Saint Patty’s Day isn’t about getting drunk or being drunk, it’s about getting silly enough to think you can dance a jig or sing a song. And while you’re doing it, take pictures.

Extra (hey, it is Friday): Irish References On The Simpsons and Irish Roots.

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Vegas knows liquor. Vegas knows drinks. They go well with cards and dice and slot machines and such. And even though the cards and dice and slot machines and such aren’t my reasons for going to town, I do enjoy a drink. Above, center you see the West Wing Bar’s Sidecar with cognac, triple sec and lemon juice. At the left is a pinapple mojito from the Wynn’s Terrace Pointe Cafe.

We lunched at Emeril’s where Sandee enjoyed a grilled sweet barbeque atlantic salmon on a homemade andouille sausage and brabant potato hash with spicy onion crust and worcestershire sauce and I tucked into a grilled filet of beef on maytag blue cheese grits with caramelized onion reduction and fried leeks.

We dined at the Melting Pot fondue restaraunt where we enjoyed the four-course “big night out” combo. Our server prepared the spinach and artichoke swiss appetizer fondue at our table by combining chopped steamed spinach, chopped artichoke hearts, a blend of aged emmenthaler and gruyere cheeses with a touch of parmesan and tabasco. A California salad with raspberry black walnut vinaigrette dressing followed that. For an entree we cooked center-cut filet mignon medallions, breast of chicken, oriental potstickers, black tiger shrimp, teriyaki marinated choice sirloin and vegetables in a red wine with garlic herbs.

Dinner was a novelty, but desert, their version of a bananas foster, was delectable. White chocolate with caramel, Bacardi 151, Grand Marnier, and cinnamon. The Bacardi and flame makes a flambé, and it turns out cinnamon sparks when ignited, which our server took good advantage of. We dipped bananas, of course, along with strawberries, apples, marshmallows, pineapples, and cheesecake.

Sandee took advantage of the after Christmas sale at BCBG and picked up a green velvet dress and these fabulous gold shoes, all the better for dancing in. And about dancing, of course there was dancing.

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