Wednesday, June 10, 2009
My Dog Don't Fart, An Epistle
I recently received this letter and thought I should share it with the rest of the world. If you're a wine blogger and haven't yet received your copy, well, you will.
You pathetic, irrelevant, imbecilic, illiterate, bottom-feeding, sulfurous, bung-licking, nose picking, flop dicking, inbred, brain dead, wet-the-bed piece of crap.
Where do you get off questioning my ethics or the ethics of my trained seals? Without me and my publication none of you would even exist. You all want to be me! Like that's a walk in the goddamn park. Pretending to give a crap what Mark Squires thinks, wading through all that Schildknecht babble about German wines only sissies and old ladies drink, listening to Dr. Miller ramble drunkenly on about his ugly ex-wife Mrs. Miller--you think that's fun? And then spending hours adding four or five points to the scores of that Galloni guy--if I've told him once I've told him a hundred times, "People like to see high scores! Do you think they'd watch the Olympics if every gymnast received a 7.5? Would they watch 'Jeopardy' just to see Trebek's newest toupee if the contestants only won $35? Why do you think the Stanley Cup Finals are on the WhoGivesaShit Network? They have violence and nonstop action and cheerleaders with erect nipples but they have low scores! No one cares!" But he still lowballs the Italian wines, not that I blame him. They all smell like Berlusconi's fingers if you ask me.
What do you care that Squires gets a free trip to taste Israeli wines? So what? I sent him on that trip praying for a suicide bomber to get me out of the contract. Who cares about the wines of Israel? What, "Wailing Wall White" is going to set the wine world on fire? Sure, it's unfined, unfiltered, uncircumsized, so what? No way any of their plonk rates over 82 points. So what does it matter he took a free trip? All you blobbers do is whine, whine, whine. If you ask me, China has it right when it comes to the Internet. It needs to be monitored and controlled. When did free speech ever amount to anything except yokels spouting off about shit they don't understand? Hey, let's put it this way, my team's ethics are the equivalent of the knowledge and experience of wine blobbers--sure, they've got a little, but they never let that get in the way.
Come on, get off my back. I'm trying to retire anyway. But I want my little mimeographed phone book to survive me. OK, OK, I passed the buck to the wrong guys. You know that and I know that. I'm hoping that they'll get better, but, hey, I'm managing the Washington Nationals here--no, make that the Washington Generals. I got Lemons alright, just no Meadowlark Lemons. One of them comes to me and says, "Hey, Slim, I think I'm going to head off to Portugal with some guy named Symington--can you front me a couple of Benjamins?" how am I supposed to know the whole trip is a freebie? I'm in the stinkin' Barossa sweating my hairy echidnas off and tasting 100 point cough syrup with Aussie descendants of felons, I'm supposed to hold these bozos' hands? You expect a lawyer and a doctor to understand ethics. Yeah, right.
Meanwhile you blobbers are begging for free samples, printing up business cards and suckering wineries for free tastings, trying to get free tickets to wine events, going on and on about transparency but neglecting to tell your fourteen readers that most of what you know about wine you learned from Trader Joe's "Fearless Flyer," and hallucinating that consumers will one day turn to unqualified strangers on the Internet for wine recommendations. Could happen. Yeah, and my dog don't fart.
In Vino Veritas,
Robert Barker, Jr.
He's got a point.