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Nico's Lazy Sunday (Cosmo Edition)

Four fashionably blood-sucking zombies walk down 5th Ave. speaking in witty zombie banter. They stroll through alley ways with gold plated addresses and luxurious patisseries, all in slow-motion of course. The trail of drool and blood would easily direct you to their destination. Once you find them, you'll arrive to the main frizzy haired zombie carrying a vintage Emilio Pucci handbag and a Lanvin satin smock, exclaiming to her friends, "Let's get cosmos!".

I really enjoy a great cosmo. It's sweet yet strong and overall most quenchable. There really doesn't beat getting a round of jollies with the girls and kicking up your heels. There are many great places here in the city for the sassy drink. I recently visited Martuni's on Upper Market, a real destination place for their excellent cosmo selection. Me, being from an island and all, choose the passion fruit cosmo, and let me tell you, each sip was an exotic dance party in my mouth--a real palette pleaser. However, I digress from the main point I wanted to make.

I am able to write about my great fondness for the girly libation because I have broken through, no longer caring about gender specific cocktails. I remember so specifically the day I decided not to care. It was at a fancy cocktail lounge where everyone was dressed to the nines. A couple, probably on a date, is ahead of me and deciding what to drink. The bow-tied man orders a cosmo, the lady a double melon martini. She suddenly shrieks, "You're getting a cosmo? Only girls drink cosmos!" He freezes, stumbling for words, unsure of his rebuttal. "Nah, I just like cranberry juice is all."

I tune out of their conversation after his cosmo-crucification. I later think about what she said to him, and the cruelty of it. Here is a man who simply wants a drink most refreshing. Is he wrong? Certainly not! From then forth, I decided who cares? Why not be a full grown man who so happens to drink the most outstandingly girly cocktail around. Cause let's be honest, I've put gayer things in my mouth.

The zombies arrive to The Park, a ritzy Chelsea watering hole, exhausted from shopping and receiving compliments from mortals. Their feet at this point are bloody and bruised, and not because they're zombies, but because it's a real bitch walking in Louboutins. At the bar they meet with their fave gay friend to talk about the days events. The girls order a round of cosmos and ask the fabulous undead homo what he would like? "Oh my god, you're getting cosmos?" he exclaims, "How vile!". The smutty blonde retorts "Well, what's so wrong with cosmos?". "Well, because we're zombies you silly bitch!" He says as he turns around and groans to the bartender, "A round of Bloody Mary's instead!"

1 comments :

  1. Haha!! funny and fancy post. Fashionable blood sucking zombies..I never heard that term before.amazing article.keep posting stuff like this.thanks for sharing

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