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Jul. 20th, 2006 12:08 pmLast night we had a little bit of drama when some girl in Ohio ripped off one of my metroblogging posts. (Which, why? It wasn't even a very good one.) It was about a new pool hall in town and she changed a few words--most notably, from a certain kind of a beer to a "Sheryl Temple."
I've become obsessed. I've decided that Shirley Temple had a bitter cousin named Sheryl who always thought Shirley ought to have shared some of the fame. She grew up and moved to Nebraska where she made a living as a backwater lounge singer. One day she was resting between sets and heard someone whimsically order a drink she'd never heard of--a Shirley Temple. Sheryl tried one too, and decided that what it needed was some whiskey.
And that's what a Sheryl Temple is--a Shirley Temple with whiskey in it. And you can only drink it in a dirty bar with one speaker while you're sitting there oozing sad glamour.
I've become obsessed. I've decided that Shirley Temple had a bitter cousin named Sheryl who always thought Shirley ought to have shared some of the fame. She grew up and moved to Nebraska where she made a living as a backwater lounge singer. One day she was resting between sets and heard someone whimsically order a drink she'd never heard of--a Shirley Temple. Sheryl tried one too, and decided that what it needed was some whiskey.
And that's what a Sheryl Temple is--a Shirley Temple with whiskey in it. And you can only drink it in a dirty bar with one speaker while you're sitting there oozing sad glamour.
