Salutation's you drunkards and perverts. I mean, you're visiting a site called Bum Wine Bob, you have to be either drunk or coming to us after a stint at Pornhub - and I ain't judging. I to was just at pornhub.
It's been a minute since I sat down and wrote a column. Life gets busy and sometimes all you really can do is sit down and drink yourself blind instead of creating content.
Alas, in the middle of a trek into the blackness of dead mental status, I remembered that I hadn't ate all day, and I had bought a box of that ol' Spaghetti Mom used to make back in the day.
Mom wasn't much of a cook; so it was usually boxed foods like Hamburger Helper and such. That was fine for me; I wasn't a big eater as a kid. Maybe it's because of Mom's cooking, I don't know.
Kraft Spaghetti Classics, Tangy Italian, is something that shouldn't be good; and fuck man, maybe it's not, but I'm white trash and fat so I love it.
Here's the thing, and you're going to get angry when I say this: it called for tomato paste. Listen; I've lived the trailer park life and I know for a fucking fact that you ain't gonna find tomato paste in a fucking trailer park.
So I used ketchup. Yeah, ketchup mother fucker. If we're going white trash, we're going 100% white trash. Now, what kind of drink did i pair it with? I wanted to pair with Tang, but I didn't have the forethought to by any; so I well, listen.
I got a package in the mail this week from a bartender friend of mine from Decatur, Illinois. She sent me a bottle of Jeppson' Malort.
It's gross, but tradition amongst us from that area during the holidays to pour tall shots of that shit and watch our faces have seizures.
And there I was, alone in the middle of the night, fourteen beers in, cooking boxed spaghetti with my face dancing.
The spaghetti wasn't good or bad; it was a reminder that the more things change the more they stay the same.
Happy holidays, you fucking drunkards and pervs.