Saturday, July 19, 2008

Another Tasteless Post

Let me ask you dames a question. What the fuck is the deal with this wine tasting nonsense? Seems like every damn weekend, there's a fucking wine tasting event somewhere around here. I wouldn't even know about the wine tasting if I hadn't gone out with a chick that was into it. "Oooh, look," she would say. "There's a wine tasting this weekend! Let's go to the wine tasting and taste some wine!!" I chopped her into pieces with an ax and buried her in a shallow grave in my back yard. Actually, that's not true. I buried her in Ms. Babble's back yard. Mine is already full.

I had almost forgotten about the wine tasting until the other day at work. We were standing around the water heater talking about our weekend plans, and this bitch whom I hate decided to chime in: "Is anybody going to the wine tasting?? There's a wine tasting this Saturday! I'm going to taste some wine!!" She is now buried in Sassy Blondie's backyard. (I really need to work on my anger.)

I'm not sure why the wine tasting makes me so hostile. I've never been to one, but somehow I picture it as being a bunch of phony-ass, middle-aged skanks trying to act all sophisticated by sipping imported chardonnay and pretending they know something about it: "Ooh, try this one, Gladys! You can really taste the grapes!" Filthy whore. You wouldn't know a Merlot from a glass of Welch's. These are the same bitches who 20 years ago in college guzzled cheap beer in smoky bars, puked it up in back alleys, and pissed their pants on the way home. Now they're wrinkled old closet wino divorcees whose twats are infested with crabs. Fuck, I bet any one of them could outfart me any day of the week.

This has Oprah's handwriting all over it. Damn that fugly bitch and her brainwashed minions! Stupid housewife soccer mom yentas got nothing better to do than sit in front of the tube all day and celebrate their ovaries. Their own lives are meaningless, so they try to elevate themselves by posing as high-class broads. Well GUESS WHAT, BITCH. Reading Maya Angelou and guzzling cheap wine out of a Dixie cup does NOT make you classy! Damn you all, I say! DAMN YOU TO HELL!!! (Sorry, it's that anger thing again.)

Tell you what, ladies. I got something for you to taste right here. Hell, you can even gargle with it. It's creamy, filled with protein, and has an excellent bouquet. "Oooh, try this one, Marge! It's so tangy and smoooooth!"

Just remember, it doesn't count unless you swallow.

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