Posts tagged ‘wine’
Maybe somehow I am the only person who seems to end up with wine bottles, and no way to open them. So then I do really stupid things like stab them, and break them, and try to filter out the shards of glass.
But then again, I can’t be the dumbest person in the world, so other people obviously face these first world problems.
I have found a video that shows you 7 ways to open a wine bottle with things you’d have lying around the house. However, maybe next time have a wine opener lying around the house you dig dummy!
I am not, by any means, a wino. I don’t care to smell it, I don’t want to open up the bouquet, and I am not interested in tasting thimble-fulls and discussing the smoky oats of musty vagina and primrose.
I drink to get drunk, to compete, and to finally feel a shred of emotion. I don’t drink because I like the taste of alcohol. So, its probably unsurprising to you that I don’t like red wine. If I must drink it, I always try and drink white. And no, that isn’t racism its just common sense. Every time I drink red wine, one of the following outcomes occurs:
I cry about something stupid and meaningless. Red wine reverts me into the angsty pre-teen that jerked off 7 times a day and hated how unfair it was that he had to share a room with his sister, who constantly grossed him out by shooting water out of her vagina.
I get really self-conscious about the fact that my teeth resemble Ronald Mcdonald’s after he just got done S‘ing Grimaces’ D.
I get angry about something stupid and meaningless. Ask anyone who knows me- my emotions are pretty much even keel. It is almost impossible to get a rise out of me or piss me off. Red wine brings out my feminine side, and by feminine I mean that Read more…
Doesn’t matter where you live–there are hipsters afoot. Maybe you call them Emo’s, Hippies, Chloe Sevigney or Vegans but I promise you that those skinny jean, non-bathing, self-righteous sons of beez are lurking somewhere around your neighborhood. Maybe you can’t smell them yet but just wait until an all Indie-rock festival full of bands that nobody has ever heard of except of course the people that go to the concerts comes to town. They will bike out of hiding carrying 6 pack of ironically named beer in a 20 year old organic satchel and sit around smoking black cigarettes. Then they will talk about how all of you cookie cutter people look the same. Read more…
When in reality, I’ve been with 8 people my whole life, have been dating someone for a month I’ve yet to sleep with, done the white candy about 10 times to date and diet via eating healthy and exercising (tho I pop a lil’ Xenadrine now and then to help my diet – which is exactly what it’s used for – I gained a good 10 pounds over winter).
Am I a drunk? Hell yes, sister. You can bet your sweet tits I down a bottle of vodka Friday and Saturday nights and dance my face off all weekend.
But which version of me is more appealing? The wild party slut, or the more realistic one who goes to the gym, works 9-5 and has never had a one-night stand?
In my early twenties I struggled with the fact that I wasn’t as wild, sexually and drug-wise, as most. But the older I get the more I respect the fact that something in me keeps me from crossing certain lines. Because no one wants to be typical.
And you should never give in to pressures to be typical, unless that is what you really want.
I’m about to down a bottle of wine and go to bed. Peace girls.