Whine Afficionado
December 18th 2008 02:22
Don't wine about it
Now, I am no wine afficionado and I'll be the first to admit that when it comes to plonk, I don't speak the language of grape. I'm unable to extol prolifically about the warm undertones of chocolate, cinnamon or hazlenut. I couldn't detect the zingy currents of kiwi fruit or lime if there were chunks of the stuff floating on the surface. Nor can I determine the region of origin, unless we're talking specifically about which bottle shop it was purchased from.
But what I can tell is bad from good. And, even further, I can tell very bad from bad. It doesn't take a palate of silk to sniff out a corker of a hangover from a mile away. And so it happened at a Christmas party the other evening. A glass of something fizzy and pink was placed in my hand. To begin with, pink and fizzy is a terrible start. Fizzy should most definitely only come in shades of pale yellow to slightly darker yellow. It should never inolve the colour pink and the label on the bottle should never refer to 'strawberry', 'raspberry' or any other berry and should never, ever contain the words 'with a hint of'. This indicates that, most probably, what you are about to imbibe may well have met with a bottle of bubble bath in the not too distant past.
The telltale signs of a disasterously bad, hangover inducing drink are the following:
1. Nasal hairs curl in protest, die and promptly fall out of nostrils into drink. This is not only detrimental to controlling future dust intake into lungs, but somewhat embarrassing to have nasal hairs floating in your drink.
2. Vivid hallucinations of pink drink being forced back up the same way it went down prick your conscience.
3. The first sip causes your tongue to wither and die right then and there on the spot. Efforts to revive your tongue are unsuccessful, even with the aid of the tongue defibrilator.
4. Taste buds visibly jump ship, separating your lips and bungee jumping without a rope from your cavernous mouth.
5. A little French voice in the back of your mind curses you forever and condemns you to an eternal hell of stodgy english puddings and warm beer. You don't even speak French.
Take note and be aware of the warning signs this Christmas. This is not an anti drinking column. By all means, drink. Just drink responsibly. Make sure it's expensive and French. Well, at least expensive.
Now, I am no wine afficionado and I'll be the first to admit that when it comes to plonk, I don't speak the language of grape. I'm unable to extol prolifically about the warm undertones of chocolate, cinnamon or hazlenut. I couldn't detect the zingy currents of kiwi fruit or lime if there were chunks of the stuff floating on the surface. Nor can I determine the region of origin, unless we're talking specifically about which bottle shop it was purchased from.
But what I can tell is bad from good. And, even further, I can tell very bad from bad. It doesn't take a palate of silk to sniff out a corker of a hangover from a mile away. And so it happened at a Christmas party the other evening. A glass of something fizzy and pink was placed in my hand. To begin with, pink and fizzy is a terrible start. Fizzy should most definitely only come in shades of pale yellow to slightly darker yellow. It should never inolve the colour pink and the label on the bottle should never refer to 'strawberry', 'raspberry' or any other berry and should never, ever contain the words 'with a hint of'. This indicates that, most probably, what you are about to imbibe may well have met with a bottle of bubble bath in the not too distant past.
The telltale signs of a disasterously bad, hangover inducing drink are the following:
1. Nasal hairs curl in protest, die and promptly fall out of nostrils into drink. This is not only detrimental to controlling future dust intake into lungs, but somewhat embarrassing to have nasal hairs floating in your drink.
2. Vivid hallucinations of pink drink being forced back up the same way it went down prick your conscience.
3. The first sip causes your tongue to wither and die right then and there on the spot. Efforts to revive your tongue are unsuccessful, even with the aid of the tongue defibrilator.
5. A little French voice in the back of your mind curses you forever and condemns you to an eternal hell of stodgy english puddings and warm beer. You don't even speak French.
Take note and be aware of the warning signs this Christmas. This is not an anti drinking column. By all means, drink. Just drink responsibly. Make sure it's expensive and French. Well, at least expensive.
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