James Jeffrey and the wags behind The Australian’s irreverent Strewth column are getting through the 2016 federal election campaign the only way they know how: by drinking. Their suggestions range from the tried-and-true to the esoteric and generally reflect the events of the day. (You try coming up with a campaign’s worth of relevant cocktails, though, seriously.) Relive the highs and lows of one of the longest campaigns on record with a well-deserved tipple or two.

“So things ground to a bit of a halt yesterday on Malcolm Turnbull’s campaign trail,” James Jeffrey wrote at the very beginning of the campaign, “the PM’s smile paralysed into place as the member for Lindsay, Fiona Scott, was quizzed about who she voted for in last September’s leadership spill. On it goes. And on. Did we mention the election campaign still has 51 days left? Add to that the faux campaign that preceded it – the shampaign, if you will – and it adds up to something like, oh, 800 years, give or take. Strewth is here to soften the blow with a selection of campaign cocktails … Let’s kick off with one of the more apposite drinks available in the circumstances: the Bullshot.” “You’ll need to get your hands on: 90ml of beef bouillon (you read that right; the Campbell’s canned variety apparently will do the trick); 45ml vodka; a dash of Worcestershire sauce; a squeeze of lemon; and a bit of Tabasco and black pepper. Chuck the lot together, carefully calibrating the flavour with judicious additions of Tabasco and pepper. Shake it with ice, then strain into a highball (or old-fashioned) glass with extra ice. Chin-chin. And if campaign persists, permit yourself an extra dose.”

“In honour of Malcolm Turnbull’s visit to a brewery in the old Bruce Billson stronghold of the Mornington Peninsula yesterday, we’ll go with a beer-based refreshment: Hangman’s Blood. Brace yourself – you’ll need 50ml each of gin, whisk(e)y, rum, port and brandy, which you need to pour into a pint glass (or something similarly generous). Pour in a small bottle of stout, then top it all up with champagne. “

“In honour of last night’s debate between Malcolm Turnbull and Bill Shorten, we’re going with the Smash of the Titans. You’ll want 60ml of bourbon, 20ml of simple syrup, 7ml of lemon juice, three cumquats (first time we’ve ever typed that in Strewth), and a wreath of oregano. [M]uddle the cumquats and syrup in a shaker, then add the rest of the ingredients along with six ice cubes, then pour the lot into a chilled lowball glass. Add oregano and then, contemplating the name of the cocktail in this context, plant your tongue in cheek and drink up.”

“Now we’re at that stage of proceedings when leaders find themselves having to apply the metaphorical Spakfilla to cracks in the equally metaphorical facade of unity [and] we reach for a beverage called the Spin Move. You’ll need three green cardamom pods, 22ml of whisky (the booze whizzes over at Liquor.com specify Dewar White Label but we see no reason to be so prescriptive), 22ml of cognac, 22ml of lemon juice, 15ml of sugar syrup, 15ml of St Germain, and a dash of Angostura bitters. Smash the cardamom pods and pop them in a shaker with the rest of the ingredients along with some ice. When you’re done, pour into a coupe glass and – for full effect – jazz it up with a green apple fan. Treat the lights like a pollie treats expectations and gently lower them – then drink up.”

After Tanya Plibersek told Melbourne’s Gold 104.3 that she’d done a bit of research into baby kissing (which “has been part of campaigns since the 1820s,” apparently), Jeffrey offered up the Baby’s Kiss. “It sounds like something of an acquired taste,” he wrote. “But what are we here for if not the adventure? You’ll need a quarter glass of cola (frozen), the same quantity of lemon juice, a pinch of salt (which we imagine everyone has at hand when reading this column), and a shot and a half of tequila. It could be just the drop for Sophie Mirabella in these trying times.”

After Labor MP David Feeney “forgot” to declare a $2.3 million, negatively geared investment property on a “maelstrom of events,” Jeffrey offered up the Forget-Me-Not. “[Y]ou’ll need a shot of peach schnapps, a quarter shot of kirsch, three-quarters of a shot of cherry brandy, and the juice from a slice of lime. Pour it over ice and add a twist of lime. Fifty bucks says you could be sucking down these babies all night and still be utterly incapable of forgetting a $2.3m house. Make it 100 bucks.”

On the same day, Jeffrey had a recipe in mind for Minister for Immigration and Border Protection Peter Dutton, who had recently warned that waves of “illiterate and innumerate” refugees were coming to take Australian jobs. “[L]et’s try the Expatriate (a special white person term that means ‘immigrant’). Get yourself two shots of bourbon, a shot of sugar syrup, three-quarters of a shot of lime juice, two dashes of Angostura bitters and a handful of fresh mint. Shake it all up together and strain it into a coupe glass. A few of these should be enough to render you illiterate and/or innumerate, so remember to take it easy.”

“[The Rhett Butler] goes out to every one of you who has gazed upon the semi-eon of campaign stretching ahead and declared, ‘Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn,'” wrote Jeffrey on May 20, the grind of the election clearly getting him down. “You’ll need a jigger of southern Comfort, the juice from a quarter of a lemon and a quarter of a lime, a teaspoon of curacao, and half a teaspoon of powdered sugar. Shake well with ice and strain into a glass. Not only will it keep you festive, it should help keep scurvy at bay. This is what is known in the trade as a win-win.”

“Two Campaign Cocktails in honour of the Australian Federal Police raids. First up, the Copper, into which go 1.5 shots of Jameson Black Barrel Irish Whiskey, 0.75 shots of lemon juice, the same quantity again of Irish spiced tea syrup, and a shot of pressed apple juice. Shake it with ice and strain into a rocks glass with fresh ice. Then there’s the Fig Leaf: a jigger of sweet vermouth, 2/3 of a jigger of light rum, the juice from half a lime and a dash of Angostura bitters. Shake with ice, strain into a glass.”

“In honour of the departed candidate for Fremantle [Sherry Sufi], Strewth’s Campaign Cocktail of the Day: the Sherry Splash. [Y]ou’ll want: manzanilla sherry (one shot), gin (half shot), St Germain elderflower liqueur (half shot), and a lemon twist. With your glass already in the freezer, put the sherry, gin, and liqueur in a cocktail shaker, then add ice to the halfway mark. Stir briskly with a barspoon for half a minute, strain into the chilled glass, garnish with the lemon twist. Lift to your lips, libate, and lament.”

“Today’s Campaign Cocktail … name-checks not one but two candidates. In the yellowed depths of The Art of Mixing Drinks (1976 edition) we’ve found the Swan. You’ll need: the juice from one lime, a quarter of a jigger of gin, half a jigger of French vermouth, two dashes of absinthe and two dashes of Abbott’s bitters. Unusually, The Art of Mixing Drinks – which is very forthcoming in many areas, sometimes hilariously so – then marches briskly on from the Swan without further instruction. Luckily, the internet Cocktail Database directs us to shake it all in an iced shaker, then strain into a cocktail glass. Hopefully this Swan and Abbott inhabit your (ahem) lower house in harmony.”

“Bang the gong and sound the kazoos, it’s time for Campaign Cocktail of the Day: a gin-based tipple called What the Hell. We dedicate it to Nova Peris’s mid-campaign resignation, Mathias Cormann and Scott Morrison’s joint presser, and the idiot that robbed the adult shop next door to the medical centre Bill Shorten visited.” “For this exclamation in a glass you’ll need 30ml of gin, the same again of dry vermouth, and the same again of apricot-flavoured brandy. For the purposes of zestiness and scurvy prevention, you’ll also want a dash of lemon juice. Stir it into an ice-filled old-fashioned glass, raise it to your lips and let matters take their course.”

“It doesn’t just have to be ‘The Coalition will guarantee support for Australian Dairy Farmers’, as its news release trumpeted yesterday,” wrote Jeffrey’s offsider Stephen Brook at the end of May. “Now, with this drink, in your own small way, dear reader, so can you. A community spirit spirit, if you will.” “Into a cocktail shaker add 1 tbsp sugar (Demerara is best), 4oz of brandy and 2oz of dark or spiced rum. Stir to combine. Then top with 6oz of milk and cracked ice. Shake vigorously. Strain into a rocks glass and top with the piece de resistance, grated nutmeg.”

“To commemorate Johnny Depp’s suggestion our Deputy PM was inbred with a tomato – surely the extreme antithesis of inbreeding – we will go with the Bloody Mary.” “Bring forth: 120ml of tomato juice (every drop as resplendently scarlet as Joyce’s face in full cry in question time), 45ml of vodka (from the Russian for ‘little water’, an amusing untruth), 7.5ml of fresh lemon juice, two dashes of worcestershire sauce, four dashes of Tabasco, and a pinch of salt and pepper. Mix it all and strain it into a jolly big glass. Garnish with a wedge of lemon for extra scurvy-fighting powers. Of course, if you want to go for the full Depp-Joyce experience with your Bloody Mary, drink it as hair of the dog. (And if you want to get in a live-export-to-Indonesia angle, alternate with our first campaign cocktail, the bullshot, which is basically a Bloody Mary with beef bouillon instead of tomato juice.)”