Since You Friggin' Asked ...

So a lotta you'se been askin' ... how do you make one? Well here yuh friggin' go ...

The Meister Brau Martini
by Gustavus Leonardo Grimstone

Nuthin' is friggin' classier then walking into a casino in a freshly rumpled undershirt and ordering a Meister Brau Martini. Last time I was up at the Hole in the Wall Casino in Danbury, Wisconsin I was feelin', not only lucky, but pretty friggin' thirsty.

I bellied up to bar and sez to the chap in the tuxedo t-shirt:

"One Meister Brau Martini and make sure it's ice cold, I'm sweatn' my ass off after pushing my Pacer for the last 6 miles."

He sez ...

"I'm sorry Sir, we do not serve alcohol at this location."

After his friends were able to unhook his scrotum from the top of his skull he sez ...

"Would you like that in a clean glass?"

I sez ...

"Naw, I'll take it in a dirty Welch's grape jelly jar please."

The kid needed some direction, plus I had to get my own ingredients out of my little travel kit I keep in the trunk of the Pacer.

I sez ...

"OK, now take 5 ice cubes, including 1 novelty one with a fly in it, or the real thing if yuh got one; 3 measures of Meister Brau, 1 measure of Cold Spring and half a measure of Boone's Farm Country Kwencher. Now I want that shaken, not stirred ... yuh don't wanna bruise the Brau, pour it into the jelly jar and garnish with a pig's knuckle."

And that's pretty much friggin' it ... thanks for askin'.