B.U.I.
Blogging under the influence. Also biking under the influence. Tonight is my first experience with both.
My mom and I went to a wine tasting tonight, my first. I got not buzzed but drunk. I was buzzed at 8 when the wine tasting was sposed to end, then we went to this table with a very aggressive imported wine seller and I ended up drizzunk. He wanted me to taste this one wine, saying “have you ever had a chateau neuf de pap?” and I said “I don’t even know what a neuf de pap is except a reference in a Beastie Boys song. I thought it was fake!” And he gave me a blank look and poured me a slosh of it.
So yes, this was my first wine tasting. My mom, who has done this sort of thing before, was focusing on zinfandels and was all “I’m going to try the most expensive ones first to get a sense of what the pricey ones taste like.” And I was all “I’m going to try everything under fifteen bucks ‘cause that’s what I can afford!” I’m partial to shirazes and I figured out why tonight: they’re mostly cheap.
Did I mention that I know pretty much nothing about wine? I drink reds almost exclusively, and I have a couple of kinds I like that I buy a lot and other than that I pretty much wait ‘til I try something at a friend’s house that I like then next time I’m at the liquor store I see if it’s cheap enough for me to actually buy. But I like wine, especially free wine. There was a ten-dollar cover for this event and proceeds go to my local public radio station so I’m a fucking philanthropist with my drunken endeavors, muthatfucka!
[Disclosure: I went back in and changed all the typos in this post. I had to: a force greater than myself compelled me. But if you saw it when it was still a drunken mess you can come by my place and claim the promised prize - a two-year old edition of The MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers.]
I got home tonight a half hour later than I said I would and my sweet Old Man was waiting with dinner and not even mad at me. The green beans in the szechuan dish he made were perfect due to my lateness, so I was good to be late. I assumed at 8 PM they’d be like “out of here, winos!” but instead half the tables were closed up and the other half were pimping the vino hard core, like “Come here and I’ll show you what I’ve really got. You think you don’t like whites? Try this here shit... Yeah, that’s what I thought. The first splash is free, Bitch, then you’re MINE!” So my mom and I stayed a little longer than planned, and then had a very nice conversation with the drunken French people at the bike rack. Of course the other wine-drinking bike riders are Frenchies. Americans: ride your fucking bike! Gas is much more expensive than you think.
OK, I’m going to go call Feral Mom and tell her how much I love her.
Chuh-fuckin-ow, my fellow sophisticates!
My mom and I went to a wine tasting tonight, my first. I got not buzzed but drunk. I was buzzed at 8 when the wine tasting was sposed to end, then we went to this table with a very aggressive imported wine seller and I ended up drizzunk. He wanted me to taste this one wine, saying “have you ever had a chateau neuf de pap?” and I said “I don’t even know what a neuf de pap is except a reference in a Beastie Boys song. I thought it was fake!” And he gave me a blank look and poured me a slosh of it.
So yes, this was my first wine tasting. My mom, who has done this sort of thing before, was focusing on zinfandels and was all “I’m going to try the most expensive ones first to get a sense of what the pricey ones taste like.” And I was all “I’m going to try everything under fifteen bucks ‘cause that’s what I can afford!” I’m partial to shirazes and I figured out why tonight: they’re mostly cheap.
Did I mention that I know pretty much nothing about wine? I drink reds almost exclusively, and I have a couple of kinds I like that I buy a lot and other than that I pretty much wait ‘til I try something at a friend’s house that I like then next time I’m at the liquor store I see if it’s cheap enough for me to actually buy. But I like wine, especially free wine. There was a ten-dollar cover for this event and proceeds go to my local public radio station so I’m a fucking philanthropist with my drunken endeavors, muthatfucka!
[Disclosure: I went back in and changed all the typos in this post. I had to: a force greater than myself compelled me. But if you saw it when it was still a drunken mess you can come by my place and claim the promised prize - a two-year old edition of The MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers.]
I got home tonight a half hour later than I said I would and my sweet Old Man was waiting with dinner and not even mad at me. The green beans in the szechuan dish he made were perfect due to my lateness, so I was good to be late. I assumed at 8 PM they’d be like “out of here, winos!” but instead half the tables were closed up and the other half were pimping the vino hard core, like “Come here and I’ll show you what I’ve really got. You think you don’t like whites? Try this here shit... Yeah, that’s what I thought. The first splash is free, Bitch, then you’re MINE!” So my mom and I stayed a little longer than planned, and then had a very nice conversation with the drunken French people at the bike rack. Of course the other wine-drinking bike riders are Frenchies. Americans: ride your fucking bike! Gas is much more expensive than you think.
OK, I’m going to go call Feral Mom and tell her how much I love her.
Chuh-fuckin-ow, my fellow sophisticates!
posted by E. | 9:37 PM
8 Comments:
Awww...I love you too, E. If I hadn't been out drinking wine (and spraining my ankle) myself I would have been home for your drunk dial.
God wants ye to keep yer typos! God likes it when the Irish bitches get drunk and make typos!
Man, I got on Blogger to fix this post, but then I read Feral Mom's sentiments and now I just don't know. Maybe I'll leave 'em up for awhile.
Hope your ankle feels better soon, FM! I hear red wine speeds the healing process. (And I have some recommendations...)
God wants ye te know that the force greater than yerself that compelled ye to alter yer God-given typographical errors was not a Godly force. God's not sayin' where that compulsion came from, but it wasn't his holy self.
Have a blessed Munday, Queen O' Oral Hygiene.
I know a horrible dirty joke where the punch line is "THE SOPHISTICATES!!" well, in England. Here it's "THE ARISTOCRATS"
My favorite wines are the cheapest, because they taste a little vinegary and make me want fish and cheese.
That is all I know about wine. I don't have much today. But at least I showed up.
I love that in England the punchline to "The Aristocrats" is "The Sophisticates!" Excellent. Thanks for sharing that bit of trivia, Esereth. And thanks for showing up.
Whooohoooo! There ain't no bloggin' like drunkin bloggin'.
Says the woman who now gets sleepy after only two glasses of wine. But I try. *sigh*
You cracked me up with the Chuh-fuckin-ow, sophisticates.
One of the drunkenest I've been has been after wine tasting. That shit will mess you up!
I, too have fallen victim to the wine tasting bachinalia. I really don't know anything about wine in any kind of sophisticated context, only that Night Train and Boone's Farm are the butt of many jokes. My friends and I devised our own rating system- "yum", "yuck" and "buy". We also chose to actually DRINK the wine we tasted, as opposed to dumping it in the dump buckets provided. Waste good wine? I think not.
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