Sunday, 31 December 2006

Wine Tasting Hangovers

I wish I knew about wine. I know enough to drink it of course, but that is not enough. Picking a bottle purely for the pretty label just doesn't cut it. I could spend 3 quid or 20, it doesn't matter, I am a wine heathen.

I certainly have the nose for it, a big hooter, with ample nostril space for fume inhalation. Years of picking have gifted me this fine protrusion, I have a nostril cavity volume of at least 0.4 cubic metres. But its not how big your nose is, it's how you use it of course.

I can't pick out the aromas of oak barrels, fields of lavendar, plums, saddle leather, burnt raisin, gooseberries, blackberries, cinnamon, spice, chocolate, dandelion, marine iguana, elk urine etc etc...

So I'm going to book myself on a course some day, when I'm feeling less lazy.

Last night we had a wine tasting in the village pub, which normally starts civilised but ends in me vomiting when I get home and falling asleep with just my pants on with my hair hanging lankly in the toilet bowl. I usually get "discovered" about 5am by my other half (who refuses to be named on myspace as she thinks some redneck from Idaho will read my blog, be offended, fly over and kill us while we sleep) and I strenouously deny being drunk and claim I was only "having a rest" whilst leaning against the shower curtain and then falling into the bath.

Last night I was very good, as I didn't have 3 pints of guinness to start. I do have a headache today, but I only mixed white, rose and red wines, followed by JD and coke. So not too bad really. No vomiting.

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