Wine is utterly disgusting. I don’t care what anyone says, if you like wine, there is something seriously wrong with you. I mean, ‘wires loose in the brain department’ is a colossal understatement. It is reprehensible. How anyone could drink that foul grunge is beyond me. I would rather drink stale milk. And I have drunk stale milk. And believe me, the hours of vomiting afterwards were much more enjoyable than the ten seconds it would take me to drink wine and spit it out. I would rather eat my own foot than drink a bottle of wine. But what is wine? An alcoholic beverage made from fermented grapes or other such fruits, considered by science to be a psychoactive drug. It has a rich history dating back thousands of years. And it’s evolved greatly in that time. Heck, Prince Charles has an Aston Martin powered by wine. Mmm, seriously. Wine. It’s come a long way from the days of Ancient Egypt where the great and rich bathed in the stuff. Although it is worth pointing out that there are spas that still do that. Also, seriously. But it does not deter from one absolute, undeniable fact. Wine is utterly disgusting. But soldier on we must…
The oldest wine on Earth is over 1,600 years old, and scientists continue to debate as to whether or not to open it. My answer? It’s a bottle of wine, who gives two hoots? Italy produces the most wine on Earth, over one million gallons of the stuff yearly. And France consumes the most per capita, with nearly two gallons per year. 50% of all corks are produced in Portugal. The Yunessun Spa Resort in Japan has a ‘wine spa’, where, instead of water, you have wine. Lots and lots of wine. Bloody wasteful rich plonkers. Despite what many believe, wine is bad for your health. Most wine consumed is bought in supermarkets, but none of it is particularly healthy and is, instead, just some cheap alcohol filled heart attack in waiting. Only the expensive stuff is good for you, and even then, only one or two types. One study suggests we pay more for fancy sounding wine than non-fancy sounding wine. Even if the non-fancy named bottle tastes better. And we even have the baffling world of wine terminology, words that don’t make me think of wine. Buttery, for example, is a very common wine term. And here’s the root of my problem. It’s the social difference. For me, a working class hobo, buttery is a word I use when describing how much butter I have on my toast. “Oh damn, it’s not buttery enough.”
I have to bring class into this. Wine is for rich people. All this terminology. When I hear people using it, always people with very posh accents, I just look at them and think, ‘Jesus Christ, where did your life go wrong?’ Collecting is also an issue. Working class I am. I can’t envisage a world whereby you spend that kind of money on booze. Heck, I’ve made booze. Perfectly legally. Ahem. That’s the world I’m from. Not the other one. And what about tasting? Eurgh. “Oh, the aroma is simply divine.” Oh, shut up. Drink it! Just bloody drink it! You ungrateful bastard! Think about all the people in the world who don’t even have water. It’s a different world to mine. Wine drinkers are not ‘my people’. Fair enough if you’re the kind who has a little wine now and again, at dinner, maybe. You’re aspiring to be better than you are. And that’s wonderful. But those people you aspire to be, are dicks. And to be honest with you, I don’t want anything to do with their fancy world. They can sod off.
And it tastes disgusting. Eurgh, it is the liquid personification of sweaty feet…
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