Okay, this week's drink is quite simple and actually concocted by my friend Genevieve back in Boston. It's called a Raspberry Gimlet, and I'm introducing it to you because with this Indian summer we're having in San Francisco, I'm feeling quite nostalgic for Boston, New England autumns, our old friends, and the mushroom tarts at the West Side Lounge.

Gen's Raspberry Gimlet
2 oz. Raspberry Stoli Vodka
1/2 oz. Rose's lime juice (you can also use fresh, just strain the seeds)
1 lime quarter

The Shake:
Mix the vodka and lime juice with a few cubes of ice and strain into cocktail glasses. Enjoy with friends.

Primarius lounges out on the loft's deck and drinks to their success. Howie's got something weird wrapped around his head. So does Ryan. One might glance at Howie's headgear and say, "Well, it's one of those wool bands you wear when skiing," and I might agree. However, those are to protect and keep your ears warm. Howie's headband? Not touching his ears in the least. If anything, he looks like he's trying to keep his hair out of his face so he can wash it with Noxzema Foaming Cleanser -- now with micro beads! Ryan? Well, Ryan just looks like an unmarried Amish woman with that white skullcap. Hey, I owned and adored Henner's Lydia, I know from what I speak!

Primarius returns to the loft with their empty bottles and glasses and sees luggage strewn about the place, but no Matches. We snap back to old footage from last week where Martha fires Shawn. Matchstick stalks back in, and Primarius boggles over Shawn being gone. Carrie, who seems to think she's Austin Powers in her Union Jack puffer vest, is all, "Shawn's gone. The one person who seems to be one of the stronger members of the team? Is gone." Dude, what do you know? You're off winning every week -- how can you pass judgment on who is good and who is permanently stuck in the '80s? Shawn had a big mouth and a frosted ego -- that doesn't make her a strong team member. Hateful Jim rather calmly recounts what happened in the conference room, and this time, he doesn't use any metaphors, similes, or screaming. But I still hate him. Internet David makes some comment about nothing being "clear-cut." "No, it is clear-cut, though, in my opinion -- you have to have a quality product that consumers can relate to and appreciate and you have to be proud to present it. There's no faking it!" Sarah says, staying on message and never deviating from the talking points. She's Ari Fleischer. "There aren't any cheesy salesmen here," Sarah adds, and they we HYSTERICALLY cut to Hateful Jim swigging on his water. Hateful Jim is so the Joe Isuzu of the show! But now with more hate. In the Hateful Jim Confessional, Hateful Jim once again shows his hateful true colors: "Those Primarius people are SO smug!" Uh, with three wins, bordering on four, I think they have a right to be. Idiot. "I can't WAIT to see when they have to go into the conference room and they're exposed for the frauds they are -- I'm just going to drink in the tears like nectar of the gods." Now, will the tears flow like sap from the mighty oak when it has been felled by the scythe? And tell me, Hateful Jim, how are they "frauds" when they WIN EVERY WEEK?!

Hateful Jim Simile Break: anchor, nectar of the gods.

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