Drinks and answers

I'm so glad I finally made a game where people got all the answers right! Here they are for you anyway, for the official count. And also in case the people whose pictures I used ever find this site and are all, "Flickr clearly states you have to link back to all pictures you use, bitch." I love these pictures. If you want to have some fun, pop random pairs of words into Flickr's search engine and see what turns up. This makes me wish I actually used the tag function more creatively, or at all really. I like to think I make up for it by putting all my pictures in neat little sets.

Answers:

A. Cat, tortilla (I was hoping to throw some of you off with searches for "cat, pancake" or something, which would have been awesome, by the way.

B. Doll, button

C. Dancing duck (this one came up on the first page when I created it, but now doesn't seem to come up there at all. Uh...good job anyway! This one was tricky, but I thought it was too funny to pass up. Because the duck is totally dancing.)

D. Ballerina coffee

E. Purple cake (though you guys found it with "teacup cake," which also works)

I sorta loved doing this last game, but internet searches are my kind of fun. Maybe I should make that a bullet point on my resume: enjoy Googling.

This weekend a bunch of us went to Artopia, which is supposed to be a giant art-based show in a club setting, but was mostly a bunch of alcohol sponsors spread out over four floors handing out tiny shots. Yes, there was some art, and we saw a couple fashion shows, and there were some bands in the basement, but the highlights of the evening were definitely figuring out which sponsors had the best swag and then figuring out if they'd notice if we doubled back an hour later (Bailey's, no).

Around 11pm, the sponsors started dispersing, at which point, they were looking the other way while people unloaded as much free stuff from their free stuff tables as possible. A couple of our friends came back with armloads of cigars and were positively giddy with the wealth of it all. Given that they don't smoke, and none of our friends there smoked, they were left with the task of then getting rid of all them in some sort of creative fashion. (These are the same friends who came across an abandoned soda fountain on a baseball field in high school and, after drinking their fill of soda but being loathe to leave a bunch of free soda sitting there doing nothing, filled a cooler with all the soda it could hold and went to another friend's house to trick him into exiting his house. Whereupon they dumped the cooler of soda on him. They got to reminiscing about this last month and got into excited talks about tracking down that friend--who is now in Brazil--and dumping another cooler of soda on him).

They worked themselves up into some sort of Italian stereotype/Borat-inspired mode and went around yelling at the top of their lungs, "For the baby-making! You smoke this now! He make for the baby!" and variations on that theme, while tossing cigars at people. Eventually body movements were added into the mix and soon they were mimicking the action of pulling a baby out of one's nether regions while yelling, and then tossing the cigars.

It was unclear whether the people lined up outside the club thought that they worked for the cigar company, but they didn't care. They were like a pack of ravenous cigar-eating animals who hadn't feasted in weeks. You would have thought they were throwing out packs of money or locks of Britney's hair or something.

So, crib sheet for next year: Bailey's gives out martini shakers and fancy glasses, Don Julio has little key chains that might immediately break, Flying Dog will tell you you can leave the bottle you designed with them and get it later but they will be gone later, if you get there early you can score an official Captain Morgan hat, and at the end of the evening the cigars are yours for the taking.