A cocktail is to a regular alcoholic beverage what a top notch stripper stripping is to your Dad getting undressed. At the end of the day they are doing the same thing, but Christ what a difference.
Everyone needs something to believe in. I believe in cocktails. They are creative, attractive, potent, and they have a clear sense of purpose. Cocktails are about the details, and delight dwells in details.
A cocktail takes the familiar, say a lemon and some spirit, and turns it into something high impact, just like the stripper. An exotic name, a dash of bright colour and a well-thought out garnish are all part of the package, in both cases.
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Welcome to another instalment of I Call Bullshit, a column that looks at artful artifice, spin and skulduggery. This week we’re looking at those loud and proud new milk cartons that trumpet their ‘permeate free’ status.
It’s hard to keep up with health claims on food. Low in fat often means high in sugar. High in energy also often means high in sugar. Pictures of fruit may not necessarily indicate the presence of actual fruit.
There are swags of regulations – and state governments are looking at a national approach to tighten them further - but the food producers will seek out every inch of wriggle room they can find to convince you that their product is healthier than it actually is.
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Goodbye weekend, hello new working week. That’s just our way of saying happy Monday, Punchers! Did anyone overindulge this weekend? And by overindulge we mean, did anyone drink too much? Those who did might be interested in a big fat glass of Security Feel Better. What’s that, you ask?
It’s Europe’s latest hangover cure that promises results in just under 45 minutes. The French-made drink contains contained an “enzyme that helped break down alcohol in the liver five times faster than the body on its own.”
The marketing company behind the product says it should only be used as a “hangover cure”. But we’re not so convinced. With such fast results, wouldn’t you be tempted to drink a little bit more, then take a big gulp of “Security” before driving home? Hmmmm.
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McDonalds has bent like the proverbial river weed in the current of coffee snobbery sweeping through Australia.
No longer content to swill International Roast, cheap-a-cinos or the brown-coloured water that percolates through thrice-used grounds, Australians today demand proper coffee.
Where once it was a privilege to sup a cup of creamy latte made from beans harvested from the strained foecal matter of the rare jungle-dwelling civet, now it is a human right without which we are debased.
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