Is there some kind of statute of limitations on the tastefulness of jokes about a pint-sized murder victim? Especially if said victim sported a coif right out of Dynasty, held a title from the National Tiny Miss Beauty pageant, and suffered under a comically accented first name? In other words, are we allowed to scoff at JonBenét Ramsey yet? (Let's face it: If she were alive today, you would totally hate her.) More than a decade after her pageant-queen dreams were dashed like a rhinestone tiara on concrete, the bartenders at the Argus Lounge dare to mock the made-for-Lifetime saga surrounding her grisly death. And they do it with a drink that suggests what might happen if you left Shirley Temple unattended in the Ramseys' basement: Just pour a little ginger ale, add some Stoli Vanilla, and throw in a "crushed cherry." We're all going to hell anyway.