Monday, July 13, 2009
If I could, I would have my left breast surgically altered so that it spouted ice cold Pinot Grigio when I squeezed my nipple. If I could get away with it...I would get Pinot Grigio flavored Zoloft...name my child Pinot Grigio Lacy Berube...and write a love song called You Rubbed My Pinot Grigio The Right Way.
I LOVE me some Pinot Grigio.
A couple of weeks ago, a new wine shop opened up two blocks from my house (street blocks...not avenue blocks...FUCK avenue blocks...long ass bitches...you need a goddamn Sherpa and a star map in order to navigate two avenue blocks). I love this shop because 1) it is light and airy and filled with glistening bottles of wine, and 2) it's cheap as hell. Every time I go there I leave with a magnum cum laude degree in Pinot Grigo Science for only $12. Hot damn.
Though I do have to say that whenever I walk in and the little Asian girl is working...she sees me and starts to giggle. I want to tell her...this ain't Memoirs of a Geisha bitch. Stop gigglin' at me behind your fan.
But that would be racist and wrong.
Plus, she has a good reason for laughing. One day, in a galaxy just down the street, I was picking up a bottle of vino for my girl Denisse's graduation party. New York, unlike the rest of America, doesn't give a fuck about hygiene, so there are dogs in every nook, cranny, and orifice up in this piece. So this day, there happens to be a scary lookin' werewolf German shepherd up in the store. The dog had his back to me as I walked up to the counter. Now, perhaps the dog was old and deaf or a special needs dog...but he didn't hear me walkin' up until I was about a half a foot away, and then the damn thing jumped, spun around and started pullin' a Kujo...which made me jump and scream like a little biyotch. Everyone up in that piece got a good giggle out of that.
Yet not even rabid Old Yeller Rabie infested Hell Dog German Shepherds can keep me from my sweet sweet pinot grigio. Which, incidentally, means "A Grape So Good That You Will Drink It and Call Jesus' Name" in Italian. It's true. Ask the Pope.
So here is to my soul mate...Pinot Grigio...you don't have a penis...but I still love you.