My Grapes of Wrath

I wish I had done this sooner but there were was never a chance. Some blogs, new and newly reborn should be brought to your attention. Particularly the Angry French Belle and her experiences of hell in Franceland. Well, I presume she thinks it hell seeing as FRANCE IS HELL.

Betamaxnomates is lying because I am his mate. In a “Awright Guvnor” Jamie Oliver sense. In a “My mate Betamax, top bloke, thouroughbred horticulturist” sense. He doesn’t know anything (that I am aware of) about flowers though so that would be a lie. One of the few topics he is not an expert in.

Then there is El Liamo. His website is disgusting and there is no reason on God’s green Earth that someone as funny as he should languish at that God-forsaken ass-end of God’s virtual playground that is ***MySpAcE***!!!!1!!!1!!!!!!

You know Sideways might be the most over-rated film in history. I only say might because it is not finished yet but I look forward to consuming enough beer (and none of your twitty wine thank you very much) that by the end of the movie I need a new liver. I paused the film, drove down to the off licence and bought some Dutchie, leaving the classier beers in the fridge to wait for a more appropriate time to enjoy their rich aromas at my leisure. Sideways must feature so much drunk driving because that is what the script writers were doing when they wrote it. It isn’t bad for a multi-task.

Let me share some of the script with you so that you can spare yourself the indignity of seeing Paul Giamatti in something so bad.

No, but I do like to think about the life of wine, how it’s a living thing. I like to think about what was going on the year the grapes were growing, how the sun was shining that summer or if it rained… what the weather was like. I think about all those people who tended and picked the grapes, and if it’s an old wine, how many of them must be dead by now. I love how wine continues to evolve, how every time I open a bottle it’s going to taste different than if I had opened it on any other day. Because a bottle of wine is actually alive — it’s constantly evolving and gaining complexity. That is, until it peaks — like your ’61 — and begins its steady, inevitable decline. And it tastes so fucking good.

There is one funny point where the guy who used to be in Ned and Stacey runs like a maniac at a golf buggy. Otherwise, this one stinks worse than a rotten egg sitting inexplicably at the bottom of the Merlot you were saving for that date with the chick from the Buyandsell ad.

I was at a conference this week with the big honchos from the Irish church scene. They didn’t find me out. That was sweet. Also, DA Carson spoke amazingly about a huge range of topics. He doesn’t have a blog but that was one of the things he talked about. He reckons that there might possibly be a role for bloggers as this generation’s replacement for Billy Graham style mass evangelistic events. If that is going to be the case, I had better dumb this site down. He doesn’t have a blog because to do it justice he would have to give it, he feels, 2 hours a day. If he did that he might not publish 163 books a year.

Maybe soon I’ll get around to writing about the psuedo-Christian violence committed in Uganda over the last few months or respond to the serious theological issues raised quite superbly over by that patch of YellowSnow and Teragram. But between now and then, I am off to the Soviet Union.

Your Correspondent, Never drinks and dials.

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