The Silent Green
Its inception took place in a condo in Vegas that I was, for some inexplicable reason, staying at for a weekend. Most of the people present were under twenty-one, and, therefore, we had to deal with the booze on hand.
The drink itself is named after a really bad pun I had come up with a week before when I was alone in the car, driving from Oregon to Nevada.
Here's how the magic goes:
In a shaker, mix:
then toss it all in a
blender with a few scoops of
lime sherbert and some
ice cubes.
Hit puree.
Pray ferverently to what gods there be.
Turn off the blender, and sort between all the desperate dogs around.
This was, of course, a few years ago, and can probably never be recreated to its first form. It seemed yummy, but, as I recall, we were scratchin' bottom barrel for a drink.
Later in the night, marschino cherries were added to the mixture. As far as I know, everybody from that party grew up to be respectable citizens and can be found in positions of high power. Well, except for me.
Also, I'm fairly certain that, once upon a time, the Screaming Purple Jesus was invented by a bunch of drunk bastards.