You know how it's 99% disgusting to throw-up? It stinks, burns, splashes everywhere, makes your eyes water, and cramps up your stomach muscles. BUT, there is the 1%. That far corner of your mind that you don't want to admit is there in the middle of your five alarm fire of hot mess. It is the part that is enjoying the vomiting process. Hopefully, my blog is that 1% .
Saturday, August 7, 2010
By now, dear readers, you probably have a firmly pressed thumb upon my writing “style”: stream of consciousness + vulgarity - proof reading. My objective thus far has not been to educate nor to introduce. Maybe I have passed along some opinions, judgements and opinions (proof of lack of proof-reading) that have been relatable. I don’t know, nor do I give a shit. Assuming you have stuck with this paragraph so far, you would probably like me to arrive to some type of a point. Here it is: I have no taste in wine. I have tried to develop some type of palate but my tongue must be tone deaf. I have tried, how I have tried! I even spent some time caring, all to no avail. I have friends and family members that go on and on about bouquets, aromas, vintage, year, blah blah blah....it all tastes like horseshit. I know that food pairings are vital. Decanting: crucial. Glasses: kinda important. But nothing makes a difference. Everything takes like acescence. Only after forcing too much in does it even begin to taste consumable but at that point I could imbibe battery acid. I guess the only upside is that wine connoisseurs are pretentious fucking assholes.