Don’t Let Me Near Your Wine Bottles (Because I Might Have Anger Issues)

Do I strike you as a repressed psychopath with the propensity to unravel at any given moment?

I’m asking because I don’t know how else to explain this:

                                                 Someone needs Yoga.                       

Please note that the cork is still encapsulated by glass. I’m fairly certain that things like this don’t normally happen to people who haven’t been to prison at least twice.

                  Don’t let his smile fool you, Scrubber Ducky (right) is not amused.

I don’t recall exerting too much force during the uncorking process, but that’s probably because my mind was busy wandering into a pleasant daydream that involved me marrying Bradley Cooper and therefore having a practical need for this fantastic just-released home buying guide for same sex couples.

It is clear, though, that I eventually snapped out of the daydream, shed a single tear for reality, and went all Incredible Hulk on the unsuspecting wine bottle.

                                          Care for a glass of pent-up rage?

No, I did not drink it.

Or. Well. I might have had three sips, but each one was tainted by the possibility of glass shards scraping my esophagus and wreaking havoc on my digestive tract, so I stopped. Painfully, I poured the rest of the wine down the drain.

I wonder if those three sips are reason enough for me to bring up “internal bleeding” as a valid concern at my next physical. I’m gonna go with yes. I may also have to bring up my seemingly superhuman strength — something that’s especially bizarre given the fact that I’ve allowed myself to skip the gym for the past several weeks because I took the stairs at work one morning two Fridays ago.

In any case, in regards to that question I asked at the beginning of this post — please take your time answering, because if you say the wrong thing I MIGHT RIP YOUR FACE OFF!!!

Carry on.

 

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Comments

  1. I think it took even more superhuman strength to not drink the wine. A smart choice though! 😉

  2. Strainer? Cheese cloth? Friend to act as a guinea pig? You had none of these?

    • 1. Thank you for making me Google “cheese cloth” right now and opening my eyes to a whole new world I didn’t know existed.

      2. Friend to act as a guinea pig – THAT would have been perfect! Or nemesis. Either one.

  3. The wine doesn’t even look worth tasting, so good choice! I’m going to go with the “It was destiny! God broke it!” option. MUCH easier explanation! 😀

    • Veronica you are a GENIUS! Divine intervention is quite possibly the only explanation for me having that much brute strength.

  4. Soul brother! Sometimes in the morning I find one of those shattered bottles on the nightstand only to find my lost contacts floating in it. I’d drink broken glass with you any day!

    • Hahaha. YES!!! I knew I couldn’t be the only person out there with this problem. Maybe we should start a club? Though I guess there is a small chance that it would be just you and me drinking glass while talking about drinking glass. But I might be okay with that.

  5. Cheryl V says:

    One step closer to walking naked down a Miami causeway. For the safety of those around you please make sure all of your apartment exits are clearly marked, keeping in mind the closest exit may be behind you….hang in there scrubber ducky ❤

  6. This is why one must ALWAYS keep CHEESECLOTH! YOU MUST NOT WASTE THE WINE!!!!

  7. NEVER POUR OUT WINE! This has happened to me before (not the breaking of the bottle because the cork was stuck, but because I didn’t have a corkscrew so Instead I cracked the neck of the bottle over the counter. Hey, a gay’s gotta drink.) McGuyver that shit and strain the wine through a coffee filter or a strainer. Come on! Some Mexican worked hard picking those grapes!

Trackbacks

  1. […] me in real life, you may be shocked to discover that the same emotionally needy gay man who once assaulted a wine bottle out of husband-less frustration happens to be a fantasy football enthusiast (with a title under his […]

  2. […] I’ve now written yet another blog post that highlights my extreme need for therapy. I’m thinking that for my first session, I should just print out every post I’ve ever written, […]

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