if you want to make a wine person very unhappy, say that a white wine they like “is giving me a little green bell pepper?”
RED WINE
honestly the only two questions you need to start credibly talking about red wine are “does it taste like red fruits (strawberry/cherry/raspberry) or black fruits (blackberry/plum)?” and “does it taste oaky (i.e. gently sweet and earthy in a way youd associate with coffee or chocolate or warming spices)
if its a fancy dry wine (not a dessert wine, not port, manischewitz or markovic) dont say "sweet,” say “juicy”
FIZZY WINE
if its red and fizzy its probably a lambrusco
if youre drinking champagne talk about the “minerality,” even chalk notes if youre feeling gutsy. you dont have to taste it just say it
ORANGE WINE
this is very trendy. youre gonna want to talk about its “funkiness.” if you use the term “gym socks” at the right time you will get a round of laughs or at least knowing nods. if you see shmutz in the bottom dont worry about it.
MISC
if you want a wine person to talk for a while and not ask you any questions just ask them how they feel about natural wine. theyll go on for a little and you can decide to agree or disagree based on how hot they are
it’s ninety-nine degrees outside, four fuck-thousand percent humidity, and my husband was like, “i’m gonna go for a bike ride.” and i was like “why. no. why. don’t put us on the news like that. local fool collapses on unnecessary journey. don’t do it.” so he says he doesn’t want to “hide in the house” because the sun is shining. bruh. honeybruh. “the sun is shining” does not cover it. its hot outside. its motherfucking hot as fuck outside. our outdoor plants have been crying into their hands all week. whole cars are melting into the sewer. our fucking patio umbrella developed sentience to ask me for lemonade this morning
@robotmango, you need to work for the weather forecast - this was both hilarious and so vivid it made me stand up and get some iced tea.
this is a great idea, thank you. here goes. my audition tape for the weather channel. dearly beloved. we are gathered here today to have a fucking funeral for the outdoors. it had a good run, with all its creeks and clouds and shit. pretty great. now it’s ten-thirty at night but still ninety-two asshole-sweating degrees and humid as fuck. everything is hot and slimy, like being a “borrower” that got trapped inside a bottle of shampoo and then accidentally microwaved. you can see on my doppler radar that nothing is moving around out there because everything is probably dead. the only alive thing is the mosquito currently trying to drill a hole in my leg. no surprise that all the shitbag mosquitos are fine, since the thermostat of hell is always at the devil’s preferred temperature. this forecast has gotten away from me a little, but in conclusion fuck the sun
I think I’ve reblogged this before, but “the thermostat of hell is always at the devil’s preferred temperature” is fucking poetry
ninety nine???? thats IT????????? buddy here in the 7th circle of h*ck, California, we get up to at LEAST 110 degrees every single gosh darned summer. the bugs seek revenge. the sun wreaks havoc on the mere mortals it surveys. every plant has turned brown in its thirst for water. the very air itself has been sucked dry of every drip of moisture it ever had.
ninety nine degrees. you weak fool.
well since you asked so politely, let’s talk about something very important vis a vis weather-hotness that you clearly ain’t ever heard of, called
humidity
oh alas, you say. oh papa, whatever shall i do, it is ever so hotte and drye in california. the very air hath been sucked of all its moisturey droplets and whatnot.* one hundredy and tennith desiccated degrees!
*(yo, drought is serious. i am pretty obviously not making fun of that.)
alright. let’s check it out. here’s a random california city, right about now:
thirty-two percent. and here’s a random mid-atlantic city located somewhere in the wet fleshy crease behind a demon’s knee*:
*(confession: i do not live in dc, but several years ago i spent three weeks steaming like a tinned ham in arlington in august. none of the pants i took with me could ever keep a crease again.)
huh! funny thing! “see, dc’s actually seven degrees COOLER,” you say, because you’ve obviously never gone outside and taken a deep lungful of wet sock trash air in your life. and now for added bliss, here’s what early wednesday morning’s gonna be like for these poor clowns:
that’s right! eighty-two percent humidity! the point at which showers no longer matter, because you’re all caught in God’s grease trap! just stressed human eels miserably slip slidin’ their way through a damp melty bathwater-flavored hellscape that feels like it’s actively sous viding their top layer of skin! a hundred thousand people packed into public transit breathing air that feels like deepthroating swamp thing! and you wanna talk to me about fuckin california!
[cue science voice]: human bodies cool through evaporation, a process by which the body sweats and sweet invisible angels towel us off, whisking away our unwanted moisture into the air and literally chilling us out. (it’s also why air conditioned air feels so fucking deliciously refreshing: it’s not just being cooled, it’s being conditioned, aka, dehumidified. it’s cool dry air.) but. if the air is already made out of fucking chowder and can’t absorb shit then guess what the fuck our bodies can’t do.
so is this weak fool gonna remain indoors and hydrated through this only medium-hot but fuckoff-humid season? you bet your dried out ass.
This is poetry.
Here’s a handy calculator that tells you how hot a place “feels” depending on the level of humidity:
I’d seen some of these pub stills before but not all of them, imagine middle America looking at this and thinking they were just bachelors sharing a house holy fuck
Cary grant and Randolph Scott lived together for 11 years in their mansion entitled the bachelor pad there are press pictures of the two of them living in a completely wonderfully domestic setting
When Cary grant has to marry as to stop the rumours of their gayness he became very depressed, him and his wife divorced 13 months later
