TSA: "Let's take a closer look at those breasts."

 From The Mirror (as reputable a publication, in terms of veracity of their stories, as the NYT, or the National Enquirer):

Heathrow Airport is on high terror alert amid fears women suicide bombers are ready to strike with ­explosives concealed in breast implants.

Security checks have been beefed up after “credible” intelligence that al-Qaeda is plotting attacks on airlines flying out of London.

One staff member said: “There are genuine fears over this.

"We have been told to pay particular attention to females who may have concealed hidden explosives in their breasts."

Threat level:  Defcon 4.

 Somewhere, a thousand skeezy TSA agents just went full-boner.  Rest assured that directives and procedures are already being fleshed out for new advanced search techniques like the squeeze-and-jiggle, the nipple tweak, and the motorboat.

The alcoholic's diaries continued: The Margarita.

This is a drink I take pretty seriously.  It's a very simple drink, but there's a potential for variation in the results, and I've been working on refining this for a very long time.

It's rumored that some use sour mix, and call the sugary slurry that spills from their shaker a Margarita.  Such a man is the son of a thousand fathers, all of them bastards like him.  You'll need:

A competent assistant is key.

2.5 parts lime juice (about 2 limes per drink)

2 parts Patron Silver tequila (about 2 shots per drink)

0.75 parts Grand Marnier

1.5 parts simple syrup

sea salt

ice (cubed and crushed)

shaker, juicer, Margarita glass

Step into my seedy cantina, after the jump: