If Applebee’s isn’t already on your list of happy hour hot spots, you might want to rethink your life. You may remember—or not, depending on whether or not you partook—their $1 margarita deal that lasted through October. Well, betches, Applebee’s is now taking The War On Your Liver one step further by offering $1 Long Island Iced Teas for the entire month of December. I know. Just let that sink in.

The Applebee’s Long Island Iced Teas, which they are calling L.I.T.s, after how fucked up you’ll be once you have one, are a mix of vodka, rum, gin, tequila, triple sec, sweet and sour mix, with a splash of cola and a dash of your worst self. For those of you who aren’t “math people”, that’s a full 1.5 ounces of hard alcohol per drink. So yea, you’re going to want to delete your ex’s number before partaking. Or not, depending on how much you want to fuck up your life.

Vice President of Beverage Innovation at Applebees (a real job I just learned about today) Patrick Kirk described the drinks as “kind to your pocketbook and a great drink to share with old friends and new ones this holiday season.” Translation: a great way to black the fuck out and fuck up your relationships before you have to buy presents for people.

TBH, I feel irresponsible for even alerting the public to this deal. No good can come of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to Google “Applebee’s in my area” ASAP.

Another wedding topic for me to shit on! Signature cocktails—it doesn’t get much more basic than this. You’re having your country club wedding, and instead of just opening the bar like a normal person, are offering beer, wine, and a signature cocktail.

Depending on what that cocktail actually is depends on how much I get to judge you. I understand that having an open bar just isn’t in everyone’s budget (sad), but offering me a shitty cocktail is unforgivable. There are some basic rules of feminism pulling this shit off that you should stick to unless you want blind-drunk guests and bridesmaids barfing on each other. You’ll thank us later.

1. Think About Your Goddamn Menu

Would you serve a fine late season Chilean Malbec with a goddamn McFish Sandwich? If you would, I hope you choke. Same rules apply for your signature cocktail and its relation to your menu. If you’re serving a buffet, the world is your oyster. If the cocktail is presented during cocktail hour, choose something that fits well. Don’t go serving a whiskey sour rip-off with crab cakes and chilled tomato soup shooters, feel me? 

2. Don’t Be A Trendy Douche

I usually heart being pretentious, but this isn’t the place, fam. Your cocktail does not need to smoke, or sizzle, or include rare bird spit from Guangzhou. Our advice is to pick a classic and build on it. They’re classics for a reason—no humanely sourced fair trade wild flowers required.

3. Don’t Go Crazy On The Booze

We all love grandpa, but once he starts hittin’ the sauce, his groping and orgasm jokes are less than cute and make us all gag. Because cocktails, by nature, are easy to drink, go a little easy on the alcohol. If you load ’em up with three kinds of liquor, everyone’s going to either black out or get sick, which sounds hilarious, but is less so when you’re left with the cleaning bill.

4. Use Fresh Ingredients

I shouldn’t even need to say this, but freshness counts just as much in your drinks as it does in your dinner. Picking a cocktail that utilizes fresh fruit and herbs is going to be much more enjoyable than the one utilizing Fireball and Aunt Jemima.

5. Make It Fucking Snappy

Hey, you know what sucks? Waiting on the bartender to add smoke/liquid nitrogen/shake my drink for 10 minutes when my fucking song is coming on. Pick a cocktail that can be made in under three minutes or get out of my life. Do you want a line at the bar winding around your reception hall like a tubular snake? Didn’t think so.

6. Make It Something You Like

This should go without saying, but motherfucking pick something that you (and like, I guess the groom) actually enjoy. If you met while sipping craft beers, go for a craft beer cocktail. If you met when he accidentally spilled a gin and tonic on you—you get the idea. Plus, it makes for a cutesy story that’ll maybe inspire people to add an extra 0 to your wedding gift.

Images: Rawpixel.com / Unsplash; Giphy (2)

Ah, Halloween—innovative costumes, chilling haunted house-inspired decor, and that crisp, cool weather we look forward to all year. Haaaa, I fucking wish. Idk if it’s the incessant articles about fall that I force my 59 followers friends to read or the pure rage I develop when my attempt at a slutty Poison Ivy costume somehow always ends up looking like Shrek, but what we think of Halloween actually only exists in places like Pinterest or borderline demonic Disney films. And yeah, it might sound like I’ve become a bitter bitch, but that’s only because I’m actually a bitter bitch. 

Anyway, I’m not here to throw all my problems on you—my therapist frowned upon that. There’s a lot that goes into Halloween that never actually happens, and that’s honestly way too much work for an attempt at record-breaking Instagram likes on a night you probably won’t remember anyway. Thankfully, I’m here to let you down easy and tell you what to really expect come your boyfriend’s sister’s grand big’s monster bash, and why I think Halloween is the most overrated holiday (sorry, Satan, but I’m going to hell anyway). But if you’re one of those idiots who lives and breathes Halloween because you hate yourself so much that you have to be someone else to feel good, you can go shave your back now drown in your own bowl of Mini-Twix.

Actual convo we’ll have if you disagree with me:

Fall Weather

EXPECTATION: You’re already planning your pumpkin patch-inspired Instagram complete with that fall sweater from Nordstrom’s annual sale (BACK IN FUCKING JULY) that you’ve been harboring for like, seven years now. Once September hits, you’re about to rip the tags off your new leather boots, so you can eagerly mask your post-summer bloat in the cutest cozy fall attire, because you know what they say: boyfriends come and go, but leggings are forever.

REALITY: Don’t even get me started. Actually, never mind—I’ve already been triggered. I despise our garbage president for many reasons, but mostly because he’s apparently unaware of this thing called Global Warming that’s causing me to freeze my ass off, and then sweat my dick off all in the short amount of time it takes me to get to the bar after work on a Friday. Nothing tastes as good as baggy clothes make us feel, but no amount of likes on a fall OOTD pic is worth the buckets of boob sweat generated by this incessant heat stroke.

Halloween Decorations

EXPECTATION: This will be the year you finally give in and line your mantle with those annoying sticky webs that literally cling to everything you own. You’re so ready to go full Grandma Cromwell and deck the halls with boughs of horror—oh, and HELLO, stupidly over-priced adorbs accent pillows!

REALITY: You know when you take your headphones out of your bag after just putting them in 30 seconds ago and they’re in just as big of a clusterfuck as your life is? After going through the entire bag of web, congrats—you’ve successfully covered about three square feet of wall space in what looks like a heap of unrolled cotton balls. Stick a skull head on your table, and leave the decorating to your parents from now on.

Pumpkin Carving

EXPECTATION: Getting my friends together to do dumb activities no one cares about, like carving pumpkins, as an excuse to get shitfaced on a Wednesday is the one LinkedIn skill I pride myself in being endorsed on. The excitement of chugging pumpkin beer and watching throwbacks like Mom’s Got a Date With a Vampire while competing to see who can carve the best pumpkin without anyone asking “Wait, what is that?” is thrilling.

REALITY: Don’t get me wrong: pumpkin carving is the best—besides the part where you actually have to carve the pumpkin. It’s like painting a room: the movies make it look like it’s as exhilarating as sending a hoe-ish text at 2am, but in reality, it’s so much more than that. Three minutes into regretting trying to carve a Cheshire Cat, you’ll make the slightest wrong cut, only to knock a whole row of teeth out and fuck up the entire thing. Not only will you be stuck cleaning pumpkin goo off the table, but your jack-o-lantern will probably look like it just went on a 3-month alcohol bender and woke up with a half-opened eye and four teeth missing. Whatever, that’s why the devil invented alcohol.

Buying Candy

EXPECTATION: You hit up the Halloween aisle for the best and most frowned-upon candy and in the process, you even selflessly think to bag some up for your besties!
Side note: when tf did tiny bags of candy become so expensive? Tbh, my friends aren’t that great.

REALITY: It apparently didn’t occur to you that you either live on the 27th floor of a city complex or a tiny dorm room, and that the only children you’ll probably see all day are the ones dressed in fugly ‘90s getup in the Dannon Yogurt commercial. You’ve gotta get rid of the candy somehow, so you decide to take one for the team and experiment with the Wonka Nerds and craft your own witches brew of flavored hangover vodka, but like, it could be worse… Also, you’re welcome for that million-dollar idea.

Making Your Costume

EXPECTATION: The absolute best part of Halloween is crafting up the most original, not-too-slutty-but-pretty-fucking-slutty costume. For once, you got ahead of the game and began the planning process even before October came around. And to top it all off, you found the perfect YouTube makeup tutorial you’re about to watch like, 12 times in order to get the perfect sexy zombie bride face. No really, this is about to be some next-level shit.

REALITY: Spoiler alert: It’s October 30th. You’ve achieved nothing but an overloaded Amazon shopping cart filled with items that are 100% guaranteed to overdraft your checking account. Your party is tomorrow night, so you should probably just try Sears. Lol JK, I’m your friend, remember? You knew this would happen again, so you should really just order the best effing costume you’ve ever worn from our Betches store (yeah it’s a plug, fucking prosecute me) to save yourself time, money, and a year’s worth of embarrassment when you think about showing up in last year’s bumble bee leotard.

The Halloween Party

EXPECTATION: The night has finally arrived. You and your friends are planning on getting inappropriately drunk before arriving to the party—for precautionary purposes, of course. You’ll be sipping on whatever the fuck is in that witches brew concoction, while yelling “OMG that’s so good!” to your friend’s unoriginal Khaleesi/possibly-also-Elsa-from-Frozen getup. You managed to get that one Instagram you’re about to fully dissect and edit when you’re alone later on, so yeah, life is good. 

REALITY: You show up only to lay eyes half the party wearing your typical run-of-the-mill fuckboy Halloween staple: A white tee with some sort of dumb fucking saying like “Error 404: Costume Not Found” sharpied on it. Nobody told you that a “horror” theme was actually because of your ears bleeding from hearing “Monster Mash” play on repeat 87 times. Oh, and that witches brew? I’d steer clear unless you’re into the kind of thing that is chugging the leftover middle cup ingredients from King’s Cup. But it’s ok because if all else fails, there’s always some Freeform marathon to binge while also bingeing Snickers and tequila.

Happy haunting, witches.

Oh boy. When we go out, we obviously go fucking hard. Like, what’s the point if you aren’t going to take shots, dance like an animal, and make irresponsible decisions? Unfortunately, when we DO go out and act completely like assholes for the evening, we feel even worse the next morning. In college we managed to avoid hangovers and drink 4-5 days in a row. Who knew we were basically superheroes? Nowadays, hangovers stop us from going hard more than like, 2-3 nights, tops—and even the mildest of hangovers requires a minimum of 48 hours recovery time. But what if I told you that there were specific DRINKS you could order that would get you fucked up BUT result in a not-so-bad or barely there hangover? The legends are true.

1. Vodka

Number one on every list for avoiding hangovers is our good Russian friend, vodka. Because it’s about 40% alcohol mixed with water with very little else (like coloring, preservatives, etc.) mixed in, hangovers are less common when you’re knocking this shit back. So, yes, continue ordering those vodka sodas for the foreseeable future.

2. Gin

Because it’s low in extra stuff added in, gin is a great option if you’re a psychopath AND want to experience a headache-free morning. Mix with a little tonic and lime for a low-cal drink that can still pack a punch.

3. Clear Liquors

As we’ve concluded with our extensive evidence on gin and vodka, really any clear alcohol (NOT BROWN) will enable you to actually attend brunch the next day without vomming on the table. Methanol is found in brown liquors and it stays in your bod loooong after the spins have subsided, making your hangover fucking unbearable.

4. Skip Anything Carbonated

Champagne, Four Lokos (what are you, 17 years old?), and you Red Bull vodkas aren’t helping your next day struggle. Basically, anything carbonated increases your rate of alcohol absorption. Which, like, is awesome while you’re drinking, but not so awesome the next morning.

5. Light Beer

Yah, it kind of makes you look like a narc, but if you insist on drinking beer at the bar then stick with the light stuff. The same rule applies with beer as with liquor—the clearer or less dark it is, the less terrible your hangover shall be.

6. White Wine

If, for some reason, wine is your jam at the bar and you’ve been seen toting around a wine glass while fist pumping and grinding on strangers (we see you, Rihanna), keeping it to the white variety can at least help your hangover the next day (no word on your dignity). Red wine has histamines that can actually make people who experience allergies feel fucking horrible the next day.

So like, in conclusion, the less you use sugary drinks and mixers, the better. The more sugar something contains, the worse your hangover will be. Stick with mixing soda water, seltzer, or just going with straight on the rocks for sippin’. Also, whiskey and dark liquors are NOTORIOUS for horrible hangovers, so skip the Jack and Coke.

May the odds be ever in your favor. 

Your WCW is hungover every Sunday, reeks of too many vodka sodas, dreads the “Ride” of Shame in the morning but will still do it again next weekend. It’s me. I’m your WCW It doesn’t matter how many times I swear off binge drinking or how many times I’ve left a tab open with an amount that brings shame upon my family equals my entire paycheck, I’m still going to find myself at a bar Saturday night and hate myself in the AM. Look, I know, you don’t have to drink to have fun, but – JK, that’s bullshit and you know it. As a woman in her early 20s, I’m still in my prime for making questionable choices and using my age and inexperience an excuse. So, if I can get past security with my too expensive (but, worth it) flask and get away with it, I’m probs gonna do it while I still can. This doesn’t exactly work with all venues, though. Sneaking in alcohol to beaches or festivals isn’t as easy and requires some low-key geniuses so, cue these inconspicuous flask inventions that are disguised as fashion accessories. This could either be really fucking great or, like, a complete shit show.

Primeware Rose Gold Insulated Drink Purse With Bladder Bag

I know, it had me at rose gold, too but, then it almost (keyword) lost me at bladder bag. Is this for when I get old and senile and forget to use the bathroom? I’ll have to remember that. For now, it’s our dream bag come true. It’s actually a pretty stylish millennial pink-ish bag with an insulated thermal and refillable disposable baggie. You can fill it with any liquid your little heart desires up to 3 liters. No one will ever suspect a damn thing. Boxed wine anyone? Anyone??

Smuggle Your Booze 6 Oz. Hairbrush Hidden Flask And Funnel

I can’t get over this. It’s exactly what you think it is: A brush that actually works as a hidden flask. It comes with a funnel and can hold up to 6 ounces, without any worry of leakage. Note: You won’t get away with using this in public because like, who the fuck drinks out of brush? Ya, grab your friend to “pee” if you need a refill.

Blush Charade 4 Oz. Bracelet Flask

Spot the flask!!! To the naked, naive eye, this is just a trendy bracelet. Or, just a cheesy attempt at bringing back the 80s. Either way, it works. It comes in a few different colors so choose the one that best suits your metal preference and indecisive outfit picking. These are literally the best gift ideas ever, since you wouldn’t get a bracelet flask without asking your friends first if it looks good on you, right? Right.

Boozin’ Gear Women’s Hidden Flask Infinity Scarf

With fall approaching fast and steady (slow the eff down, please), what better way to conceal your alcohol than in a scarf?! Also, why didn’t I come up with this sooner? LMK. The scarves come in different colors and patterns – so like, a real scarf that will fool your sweet nana – and can hold almost a whole can of beer. Which is honestly a lot if you think about it, especially if you plan on refilling it.

The WineRack

Is this real fucking life? You’re telling me a sports bra holding 25 ounces of liquid, aka enough alcohol to share with an entire party, exists? Just when I was giving up on 2017. The inflatable wine “rack” (LOL) has control valves for pouring and comes in sizes 34A-34D so you’ll def find a size comfortable for holding alcohol on your boobs. Going for a run or getting drunk in Central Park? We both know what the right answer is.

Treasure Gurus Lipstick Shaped Flask

Our fave beauty product also happens to be a flask. Bless. The lipstick flask holds up to 3 shots, so pretty much perfect if you’re pregaming on the low and/or on-the-go. It’s a tad larger than a normal lipstick (obvs) but, no one will be able to tell the difference if it’s casually thrown in your purse. Don’t share with your bitches and reapply *wink**wink* when you please.

Ah, July 4th—a holiday created so that Americans can fondly remember the time they threw off the yoke of tyranny and oppression so they could do whatever the fuck they wanted including ditching British accents, eating hot dogs, and electing a president not at all qualified to do his job.

If you’ve ever been on the internet during or around an American holiday, you’ve seen patriotic cocktails, i.e., red and white and/or blue cocktails making the rounds.

This shit would make an eagle cry tears of joy and George Washington jizz his pants. With July 4th a few days away, and you likely without anything to make for your guests at this year’s fireworks fucktacular, you better get your shit together and make these tributes to those dudes who signed the declaration. We appropriately adapted the following recipes from the American woman’s bible, Cosmopolitan.

The American

-1 ½ oz. berry flavored vodka

-1 oz. sliced strawberries

-3 oz. spiked seltzer

-2 oz. coconut water

Put the strawberries in the bottom of a tall glass. Add ice, vodka, spiked seltzer, and the coconut water. Float some blueberries on top and fuck, it’s America in a glass.
 

Explosion For America

-¾ oz grenadine

-1 ¼ oz blue curaçao

-1 ½ oz vodka

-1 oz spiked lemonade (like Mike’s or some shit)

Grab a tall-ass glass and pour the grenadine into the bottom. Add ice on top. Super fucking gently pour the curaçao over the grenadine so it lays on top but doesn’t really mix. In a cocktail shaker filled with more ice, combine the vodka and spiked lemonade, then gently strain that mixture over the curacao. If you did it right, you have some really patriotic shit going on.

The Fourth of July is like the unsung hero of drinking holidays in that it comes along in the dead of summer, when the weather is beautiful but I’m still trapped indoors at my 9-to-5 and need to be reminded of my will to live. Preferrably through shots. Furthermore, I wholeheartedly support any holiday that gives me an extra day to black out focus on me and my needs and also one that encourages a theme. Despite the fact that New York is probably going to be sweltering hot this weekend, I will one hundo percent be decked out in some form of red, white, and blue and be drinking on a packed, sweaty rooftop somewhere in support of this great country that elected an orange man with Polly Pocket hands to run it. It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it drink until they forget about it. So here are the bars you should live your best life and black out in on this Fourth of July because, IDK, freedom or something.

1. Mr. Purple (LES)

Ah, my favorite place to go to and forget the fact that I have the same income as my G Little who just graduated from college two weeks ago. If you haven’t been to this bar yet then I feel sad for you and the life you lead because you are missing out on a fun fucking time. It’s boujee AF and located on the roof of a hotel that I’d probs have to sell my eggs on the black market just to be able to afford their cheapest room. The views are the best I’ve seen in NYC and that’s saying a lot because I pride myself on being a person that is annoying AF on Instagram frequents rooftop bars. Plus in the summer this place gets v exclusive when they open the pool. Basically, it’s the perfect place to debut your new Bad Betch one piece and also feel rich AF.

2. The Standard Beer Garden (Meatpacking)

If you’re looking to day drink with old AF frat bros in khakis then you’re in luck, girlfriend, because this place is the mecca for white dudes looking to reclaim their lost youth. I love it here. Located directly beneath the High Line, it feels tucked away from all the annoying AF tourists walking around (gags) while also keeping the charm of the meatpacking district. It’s a good spot day or night to drink beers that weigh more than my winter body weight and still feel somewhat classy doing it.

3. Night of Joy (Williamsburg)

This place is so blatantly hipster it’s this close to growing a beard. But, like, it’s got a gorgeous rooftop so I guess I’ll ignore the fact that there’s a distinct pretentious douchebaggery to it (or is that sandalwood?) and that every guy at the bar is wearing a smaller jean size than me. And, yes, having a rooftop is the only criteria needed for me to get blackout at an establishment. That and $3 cans of Tecate, which they also have in spades. Praise be. My only advice is that you don’t bring your Urban Outfitters Polaroid camera with you when you go. They won’t think you’re being cute or ironic, they’ll just low-key conspire against serving you at the bar. Which I know from absolutely no personal experience. Just saying. You’ve been warned.

4. The Boat Basin Cafe (UWS)

I know what you’re thinking, the Boat Basin Cafe? Isn’t that, like, upstate? 79th street, but yes, it absolutely is. Just don’t tell the regulars at this bar that, lest you be lectured on the real estate market for park adjacent apartments. But if you’re willing to make the journey have your sanity tested by off-peak hours MTA service, then you should def hit up the this place. Your eyes will one-hundred-percent be assaulted by a crowd of people in pastels and probs grown men wearing rompers but it’s worth it for the views. The drinks are kind of pricey, but then again can we really put a price on a fire waterfront selfie that will make every boy who follows you on Snapchat jealous? Yes, but only if you’re an ex-Bachelor contestant whoring herself for Instagram ads.

5. Bohemian Hall & Beer Garden (Astoria)

Speaking of places that are far as shit, Bohemian Hall & Beer Garden is located in Queens, which I’ve only ever been to twice and both times involved a sassy Uber driver and the G train. *shudders* BUT it’s still a solid choice for those looking to kill their last remaining brain cells over Independence Day. The indoor section isn’t much to look at, but the outdoor part is ideal for throwing back beers and forgetting that you just aged five years trekking to Queens. Tbh I blacked out the last time I was there (which seems like the point) and I don’t remember much other than that their drunk eats were on point. That feels like reason enough to give this place a(nother) try.

6. Extra Fancy (Williamsburg)

I’ve got two words for you: Frozen. Rosé. ON TAP. And before you start some shit with me about how rosé is on its way out as everyone’s favorite summer beverage, I would just like to say that I will fight this one to the end because anything that’s pink and looks good on my Instagram story will be a drink I choose in this life and every other. Just saying. This place itself is an interesting mix of uptight hipsters and basic bitches like myself who are only there for their Instagram story. That being said, the space is huge and it’s got the whole indoor/outdoor thing going for it in case the weather decides to sabotage your July 4th plans by raining. Also, the drinks are v cheap—$8 for a solo cup of frosé (A SOLO CUP) and $5 for draft beer and wine—so it’s the perfect place for day drinking and getting white girl wasted enough to scare the hipsters back to the Bushwick artist dens they crawled out of.

Hipster: *tries to sell me on some bullshit about not believing in monogamy or labels or capitalism*

Me:

7. Pod 39 Rooftop (Murray Hill)

This place is bro-y AF and you know I’m here for it. The vibe is very Cabo with all of its terra cotta columns, Mexican-tiled tables, and a menu full of nothing but tacos, tequila, and bad decisions with a guy who’s tall, dark, and you’re drunk enough for him to be handsome. Also the guy in question is definitely not Mexican but instead someone who says shit like “why can’t they speak just speak the language.” Well we can’t have it all, girls. Aside from the clientele, the view is amazing and the margs are making me want to write a pleasant review on Yelp, which are words I never thought would leave my mouth.

8. The Delancey (LES)

Imagine spending hours willingly ingesting poison Snake Juice, but instead of doing this in some dingy bar with barely any light and vomit lining the bathroom walls where that behavior is socially acceptable *cough* HAIR OF THE DOG *cough* you’re sitting on a rooftop among white chaise lounges and palm trees. It’s a dangerous combination because on the one hand you’re getting fucked up off of Champagne and vodka that costs more than your internet bill, but on the other hand the setting is making you feel more entitled than Paris Hilton in a tracksuit.

^literally me last Saturday

This place is legit ground zero for drunk texting your ex and picking a fight with your bestie in a public bathroom. It’s really quite lovely. Hit this place up Sunday through Thursday from 5-7pm for happy hour and also if you’re feeling like setting fire to your personal life.