I'm not much of a drinker, but fuzzy navels are nice- all they are is peach schnapps and orange juice, on ice. Long ago, in the midst of a major depression, I developed a relationship with Southern Comfort, drunk straight from the flask. Unfortunately, the taste and smell of it now are so entwined with the memories of those old feelings, that I can no longer drink the stuff without feeling despair.
Alcohol aside, the drink that really rocks my boat is a triple cappucino, light foam, from Bohemian Coffehouse-10,000 times better than that swill those teenagers at Starbucks serve.