Smirnoff Ice Pick (1975)

It’s National Iced Tea Day!

Or, as I say, ice tea.

Like Ice-T. Actor, musician, author, and enthusiastic television spokesperson for CarShield. 

Ice-T is an interesting dude. Not just because he released a tune called “Cop Killer,” and then became the longest-running male series actor in history for playing a police detective on Law & Order: SVU.

Which I love. I’ve seen each episode at least once. Some probably 5 times. When I don’t know what to watch on TV  or want some background noise, Mr. Sauce, Esq. and I regularly turn to Peacock, select the Law & Order SVU channel, and watch whatever episode pops up. We’ve been doing that the past few days. Season 6 is currently airing. Season 4 is choice.

Anyway, I thought it was ice tea. No past tense verb. No D.

For National Iced Tea Day, here’s a little tipple from our friends at Smirnoff:

We discovered long ago how well iced tea and Smirnoff go together. But we hesitated to recommend it on the grounds that you might find it too much trouble, steeping the tea and all that fuss.
Now it turns out there are lemon-flavored iced tea mixes that work just fine. And you don’t even have to boil water.
Therefore we invite you to try the Ice Pick, a tall, tasty summer drink that’s easy to make after all. We only ask that before you serve it, you let everyone know that they’re not just drinking iced tea.
To make an Ice Pick pour an ounce or so of Smirnoff into a tall glass filled with ice. Fill with lemon-flavored iced tea.

My version!

Today Andrea is meeting my family for the first time.
I told her to wear white.
It isn’t a must at The Club, but definitely–strongly–recommended. And here she comes in looking like a McDonald’s employee with her toes hanging precariously over the edge of her sandals. They’re gripped on for dear life as she tries to play croquet.
At least in those ugly pants you can’t see the Smirnoff Ice Pick she spilled all over herself. I don’t think she knows she’s not drinking iced tea. Uncle BoBo keeps refilling her glass. She sways ever slightly more with each shot.
Uncle BoBo can’t stop staring at her.
I don’t know if it’s because he’s offended that she totally miffed the dress code,  or if he’s trying to figure out what she looks like under all that brown corduroy.
I hate Uncle BoBo.
Oh god, would it have killed Andrea to wear a pastel?

This was good. I thought it would taste a lot more like vodka, but the lemon-flavored iced tea completely masked it.