Our school's mascot was the ferocious Scotty Dog, a get-up I got to personify during a few football games. My parents discouraged me from trying out for the cheer squad but apparently embarrassing myself in front of hundreds by doing the running man in a 50-pound, 50-year old costume that smelled worse on the inside than the dirtiest dog was fine.
I'm over it (I think) but evidently find solace in naming drinks after the most special moments in my life.
Scotty Dog
2 ounces vodka
1 ounce St. Germain
2 ounces grapefruit juice
Himalayan pink salt
That is funny. You'll have to post a picture of you from the archives!!
ReplyDeleteYou're right! Let me see what silliness I can dig up.
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