Potty Mouth

I'm not going to lie, I curse all of the time, even, or especially, when it's unnecessary.
But even I have my limits as to which words I toss around without a care and those I never say. Ever. EVER. I'm girding my loins so that I can even type this one word inparticular...cunt. There, I tapped it out. Guess who blurted this word out this morning on the Today Show? No, not the dark lord Dick Cheney. It was Jane Fonda. She was on with Eve Ensler discussing The Vagina Monologues and all of the sudden she dropped the c-bomb. Meredith Vierio (how the hell do you spell her last name? nevermind) looked like she was going to pee herself a little bit. Of course they cut to commercial and when the show came back Meredith issued a lengthy apology on behalf of Fonda, the show, the network, the space program, Santa and the free world outside of our galaxy.
I love Jane Fonda, I really do. She was my first celebrity crush. My sister and I used to watch The Million Dollar Movie (back when a million dollars was really something) and one day after school while we were doing our homework 'They Shoot Horses, Don't They' was on and I was transfixed. The movie was nothing great, but Jane sure caught my attention. Then my mother actually noticed what we were watching and made us change the channel (to The Twilight Zone, probably).
Anyway, Jane, if you're reading this, and I know you are, don't sweat it. Yeah, the c-word is harsh, even by my low standards, but it's not like you've started a war based on carefully crafted lies or anything.

Just PlainNuts

I'm still officially on hiatus, but I just had to weigh in on the bat shit crazy demons at Westboro Baptist Church.
Only click on that link if you're properly self medicated because Westboro isn't a 'fun' church like Landover Baptist. No, WBC is a place filled with so much hate that it's visible from the International Space Station.

And now you're wondering what crazy antics these asshats might have a-brewing, right? They plan on picketing Heath Ledger's funeral, which should prove difficult as there's not going to be one. It's really ironic that the good Rev. Phelps and his followers (mosly family members) simply cannot comprehend that picketing the funerals of soldiers or celebrities earns them a lot of ill-will from the entire US. Nobody supports them. Nobody. Not even Pat Robertson. Not even Jerry Falwell, a former funeral picket target himself after he, uh, died.

My thoughts and prayers go out to the family and friends of Heath Ledger. And to the wack-job fanatics over at WBC, I pity you people. The hell you've created for yourselves is probably much worse than anything looming in the afterlife.

OnBreak

Not that I'm the most consistent blogger free floating around the ether of the internets, but I thought that I should inform my two regular readers that I'm going to be taking a break. I have no idea how long the break will last. I have work that I have to complete, and sadly, no minions to do the toiling in my stead.
I will return with tales and wine (whine) someday soon :)

Saucy Sommilier

Hi, folks! Miss Kitty here. Jennifer finds herself indisposed after two Christmas day meals that involved ham, and a Boxing Day breakfast of Eggs Benedict, which also involved, um, ham. As she has frequently pointed out over the past few days, ham is the most difficult meat for humans to digest.
As you can see, our handcrafted Pissed Squirrel Red 2007 Barolo made all that ham go down a little more easily, perhaps too easily. Yes, we indulged in the holiday feasting with family. In theory, two big holiday meals would seem like a dream come true, and when you're in the moment, it certainly is. But then there is the day after of reckoning. ...Or sometimes the night after of reckoning.
Remember the Alka-Seltzer commercials where the guy sits there saying, "I can't believe I ate the whoooole thing"? I can remember sometimes being judgmental of that guy, thinking, "You fool." Well, this time of year I'm a little more understanding. It keeps you humble. We've all been that guy, and despite our better judgment, we'll probably all be that guy again next year. Yes, self-inflicted gastrointestinal distress can happen to the best of us. That's why we all have to learn to be compassionate toward our gassy brethren, while avoiding becoming an enabler.

Fending off boredom

Christmas is a time where we're forced to endure our families. Yes, family is a precious gift, and they're just one baby step better than being alone with a bottle of vodka and a knotted length of rope. And just a little planning can keep those get togethers from turning into ancient sibling rivalries dredged up and trotted out anew. What better way to fend off being stabbed in the arm with a salad fork than to play a friendly board game? Especially if the board game has such convoluted rules that it's almost impossible to figure out who's won? To that end I recommend the Buffy the Vampire Slayer board game. It has a zillion pieces, a bunch of cards and comes in a graphically pleasing box.
At all costs avoid Scrabble. Especially if my mother shows up on your doorstep toting the deluxe version of the game and the official Scrabble Dictionary. You'll soon regret taking pity on her when she screws up the entire board by making 'adz' and 'qat'. Remember; you don't have to let her in...we do.

Happy Sparkle Season!

I just love how the feeding frenzy of sales has to be called something other than what it is in Pittsburgh.

Merry sparkle seasOn, all! I prefer the winter solstice anyway. At least that has meaning.

Pissed Red

After an exhaustive search, Miss Kitty and I have settled on this graphic as the figurehead for our 2007 Barolo vintage, dubbed Pissed Red. Believe it or not, she, not I, came up with the name. I was much too distracted with the methodology behind the nebbiolo grape used to create a fine Barolo wine to fetter my mind with name calling.
That didn't come out right. Regardless, Barolo wine originated in the Piedmont region of northwest Italy bordering France and Switzerland. Barolo is made from the nebbiolo grape, with 'nebbiolo' being derived from the local dialect root word 'nebbia', translating in English to: Fog.
The juice concentrate that we used to craft this fine wine was from the piedmont region of the Cascade Mountains in Washington state, an area that closely mimics the Italian area of the original grape, both in weather and soil composition.
So far we've sampled the Pissed Red and it's a perfect accompaniment to any meat. It's at best, only gently tannin-y, mildly fruity, and washes off the palate immediately, while still providing an enjoyable wine experience.
Overall I have to say that we'll probably barrel another batch as soon as possible!
Cheers!