With warm weather rushing towards us (and bringing with it Amanda Bynes rap career – say wha) winter has never seemed so far away. Summers glory is about to take the fuck over. And what goes best with warm weather?
We drink in the winter to get over how ridiculously depressing it is that the sun goes down at 4pm. Where as we drink in the summer to simply well…get white girl wasted by 4pm. But there is one problem. The achilles heal to getting your drink on. And what would that be? Well, finding ways to drink outside is the adult version of trying to chew gum in class. So what do we do?
We get crafty.
(summer jam background music necessary)
So technically this is for some “classy’ no blender margarita business aka you have become the laziest party host in all of the land. But let’s be real, blenders are a pain in the ass. They are loud, and dumb to clean. Fuck blenders. ONWARDS:
This looks just like those weird as all get out single serving fruit pouches Starbucks has by the registers. I am willing to put money on the fact that no cop would stop me, drinking out of a juice pack BECAUSE all cops think I’m 14 and therefore would see absolutely no problem. If you aren’t a queer boi, you may have some issues.
Sissy fruity drinks not your thing? No worries. Clearly catering to the folks on Intervention WHICH HAS BEEN CANCELLED. To which I am not even commenting on because the heart break is too real. Though I think the best commentary on it ending (and why society just can’t do with out it) came from Rihanna after Amanda Bynes had shall we say a moment:
Moving on be-fucking-hold:
Now these also lead us into a whole ‘nother territory. Living in Manhattan we all deal with some ridiculously expensive drink prices. We sigh about it and foot the bill, but seriously sometimes you need to pay your cell phone bill. I know this walks the line of becoming that lady who brings her “big bag” to the buffet. But let us be honest WE ARE ALL ON THE WAY TO BECOMING THAT LADY. So what’s the harm in maybe ordering a soda and slipping one (three) of these bad boys in? It does say “pocket shot” – this product is instructing me that it does indeed live a better life in my pocket. So like let me help it help me. If any of my bartender friends are reading this I’m totally joking, well no… I’m not BUT I promise I will never do it at your bar.
The universal please arrest me sign is a brown paper bag. Which is why I am always so confused when I go to the bodega and they place my Coke in one. I’m like dude this is legal, please don’t subject me to a bag check on the Subway that I totally didn’t sign up for. But side bar who are these asshat’s walking around thinking that you can drink out of a fucking Solo cup. You can’t bro. The city isn’t your extended beer pong playground. You can’t take a winners lap around Washington Square. I’m sorry. But you can’t. You know what you can do? You can do this:
This is essentially unequivocally the best thing that I have ever fucking seen. But who would waste all of those cold ounces on a Heineken? Whiskey or bust baby.
Now a handy chain of stores has taken over this city providing us with a cheap assortment of frosty mixers. 7-11 I salute you.
10 year old me saw this as a delicious escape from summers heat. 23 year old me sees this as a buffet of already made mixed drinks.
And guys! YOU GUYS. Someone fixed all of our first world drinking outside problems. How you ask? Because someone invented these four packaging marvels:
That is a fake iPhone that is actually a flask.
Now box wine is nothing new. But single servings allow for a much easier day in the park.
That. Is. Whiskey. In. A. CAN. I think I am crying. Is this what it feels like to give birth? This can, made by a Latin American distributor pours out 8 shots which the company touts is great because than you can share with two of your friends. Which like…no. But thanks.
Champagne in a can? I know. Your head is spinning. Nothing says classy like drinking from a tiny pink can with a tiny pink straw.
A few rad bars in Brooklyn sell these, otherwise it is to an UES liquor store for ye.
Now my favorite holiday month is coming up, you know the one with glitter and rainbows and all things glorious and gay? PRIDE! Let us be brutally honest for as amazing as the Pride parade is, it is a fucking hot as balls (literally) shit show. The cops won’t let you cross any streets, and all you really want is to get to your party of choice and get it get it. This year while all the madness is going down don’t forget your street tools:
So technically these are for bikers, runners, you know people working out. But as far as I am concerned surviving Pride IS a sport. Pump this full of whatever you want. Throw it on your back, and enjoy an alcohol IV all day long.
Now I hate feet. Like really fucking hate them. So I’m not ever trying to go this route. But if shoe liquor is up your alley Reef has you covered.
(but like who wears flip flops to Pride?)
Actually, seriously kids flip flops are like the dirtiest shoe that will ever touch your foot. You might as well just be walking around Manhattan barefoot and then step into your apartment with the dirt of a million all over you. Think about it.
In other news:
If all of these things seem like way too much work for you, a bar in Williamsburg has your back.
Grab any beverage (to go) and be on your merry way. No. I’m not kidding.
Mariah called – she wants her song back.