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This Is What Happens When A Bro Goes Wine Tasting With A Pro

I’m a party boy. I love getting drunk and playing cornhole and roughhousing with friends, just being generally loud and obnoxious. I think of those times as “beer drunk.” Other times, I’ll get “liquor drunk,” where I insist that everyone talks about how much they hate their fathers and we take turns puking in shrubbery. The one kind of “drunk” that continues to elude me, however, is “wine drunk.”

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been drunk off of wine before, but not very often at all. Usually it’s just at weddings where the bride and groom are too cheap to get hard alcohol, so they stick to beer and wine. Even then, I’m drinking more beer than wine.

Still, I’ve been told countless times that “wine drunk” is the best one, and not just by groups of unruly women preparing to watch the season finale of The Bachelor. So, I decided it was time to go do the one thing I’ve (surprisingly) still never done: wine tasting.

My friend Brianna, who’s had the UTMOST pleasure of knowing me for 15+ years now, was the first person to come to mind as my partner for this endeavor. Not only does she know more about wine than anyone else I know, but she also writes for and runs one of the best wine blogs I’ve come across in my line of work, which is saying a lot. Brianna has a knack for seeking out the hidden gems, making the perfect wine/snack pairings and, above all else, having fun doing what she loves. That is what matters, right?

And so, my day begins after I receive a text from Brian saying she is five minutes away.

9:13 – I’m ready and waiting for Brian to pick me up. Her full name is Brianna, but I call her Brian because women named Brian are funny. There’s a Redd’s Apple Ale and a Miller High Life in the fridge, both widely considered to be cold, frosty feces. I drink them both anyways.

Drinks in – 2

9:33 – I get a text from Brian saying she’s here. The text also says she brought her mom. I am both surprised and aroused at the idea. I welcome Mrs. Brian’s mom.

9:34-9:57 – We discuss life and how things have been going, yada yada yada. Neither Brianna nor her mother have noticed my Jeff Goldblum shirt yet. For some reason, this infuriates me. I press on, for the sake of wine and wine enthusiasts worldwide. But seriously, it’s freaking Goldblum. Grow up, ladies.

10:06Honig/2014 Sauvignon Blanc – I try my first wine. It tastes like Colgate. Brian assures me the third sip is the best one, as you’re supposed to try each serving 3 times: first and second sip to coat the inside of your mouth with the wine and the third sip to actually get a taste for it. I also forgot that I brushed my teeth after chugging the beers, hence why the wine tastes like toothpaste.


Drinks in – 3

10:10 – I farted.

10:11 – Neither Brian nor her mother have noticed. Then again, they’re eating pastrami sandwiches drenched in the vile nectar of pickles. They’ve forfeited their rights to smelling things today. Lucky for them too, because I’m being strangled to death by whatever ghoulish entity just snuck out of my ass and is now haunting the good people of this winery.

10:13Italo Cescon Artigiano Del Vino/2015 Pinot Grigio – Brian asked me to tell her what I taste in the wine. I told her they all smell the same to me. She chokes down the urge to slap me and instead insists that I try again. I said it tasted watery, and she lost her shit. “Yes, Sean! Exactly! Italian wines often taste a little more watery to those of us more accustomed to big, bold reds, like Cabs. You nailed it!” Of course I nailed it. I nail EVERYTHING, I am the Wilt Chamberlain of alcoholic accomplishments.

Drinks in – 4

10:21 – They still haven’t noticed Goldblum. WTF is wrong with these noobs? I’m pretty steamed at this point.


10:25Cairdean Vineyards/2012 California Riesling – this one is very sweet. I discovered that I like sweet whites. I make a joke about liking my women like I like my wine. Brian, being a sweet, white woman, laughs at my joke because she’s learned to tolerate me with the best of them.

10:37 – After deliberating with her lovely (and I mean lovely) mother on what’s next, Brian brings me three different white wines. She sits there and patiently explains them all to me. I drink all three and they taste exactly the same. She then points out what was different in each one, upon which I realized that… oh, they still taste the same. White wine is for lil bitches.



Drinks in – 8

10:45 – My world is starting to spin a bit. Brian’s words fall on deaf ears, bless her heart. Still, she’s here to do a job, and she’s the kind of person that will stick around until the job is done, even if the job requires her to babysit a large, loud, drunk, amazing, admirable man with remarkably soft hands and a penchant for line dancing. Is it weird that I’m falling in love with myself just writing this? Naaaaah.

10:47 – Brian’s sister keeps calling to ask stupid questions. I keep answering and giving her stupid answers, because it bothers her and entertains me. Also, she once took my hot dog directly out of my hand and stared at me while she ate it. We hate Nichola.


10:49 – Brian continues to tell me what kinds of wine I’m trying. Unfortunately, I stopped listening three Rieslings ago because the homely looking woman working at the deli is starting to give off some serious “sex my body parts” vibes. One minute baby girl, I’ll roast your beef sandwich once I’m done being the best at wine things. Goldblum is yet to be appreciated, I still boil with fury on the inside. If Goldblum were here right now, he’d be SO offended.

Drinks in – 9

10:56 – Brian retrieves three more glasses of wine, all of them red. The first one she hands me is a Pinot Noir. Brian informs me that I am supposed to go from lighter to heavier, but I’m a drunk ass, so rules get thrown out of the window. I swap sexy glances with the unlovely girl at the deli counter, then make my way towards her, walking slightly slower than normal so as to intensify the already intense sexual pressure in the room. I reach the counter and see her cheeks go rosy while she withdraws into herself, rocking ever so slightly in such an innocent way. I lean in closely, slowly, and with a cracked, crooked smile, I say, “Let me get the French dip please, and leave the pickle out of this. I swear to God, Ronni, if I see a pickle touching my sandwich, I will set your dog on fire.”


11:01 – Ronni’s dog lives to see another day, which is unfortunate for the rest of us, since she has an English terrier and those things look like deformed feet. Furthermore, any love between Ronni and I is lost forever now. I don’t have time for women and love, friggin’ Ron. There are wines that need to be drankded. Still, at least the Ronster noticed Goldblum, friggin’ Brian and friggin’ Brian’s mom. Alright, back to the grape pee.

Drinks in – 10


11:02 – I take a sip of the Merlot and then try to describe it to Brian. Every answer I’ve come up with, throughout the entire day, has apparently been wrong, except for my declaration of watery Italians. It’s at this point that I realize that, alas, I can never be a wine connoisseur like Brian. My taste buds are too simple, there are only ever two options: good and not good. So far, everything I’ve tried, on average, is pretty good (ok fine, three options, shut up). Brian’s mom is making sure no shitty wines are chosen. She is the hero I need but don’t deserve.


Drinks in – 11

11:07 – I’ve gotten to the point where chugging wine seems to be the only reasonable option. I mean, it’s 11 AM. We’re basically the only people here right now. Even Ronni is looking at me going, “He’s probably breathtakingly talented in bed, but he sure is a slow drinker.” Oh yeah, Ronni?  I’ll show you, you dick.

11:08 – I am now chugging my last wine of the day. Brian doesn’t even bother trying to teach me about it, she knows it’s a lost cause at this point. I start loudly proclaiming to everyone there that, “I’m a Somalian! Ask me anything about wine, I know it all. What? Somalia? No, I don’t know anything about Somalia, why? Is that one of Obama’s daughters or something?”

11:09 – Still no word on my Goldblum shirt. I even took a picture with Brian and she still has no idea. I’m honestly so done with these people.


Final drink count – 12

11:12 – We reach the end of our journey. I would stay and continue drinking, but I have shit to do today. Stranger Things isn’t gonna get super baked, make some cookies, and binge watch itself. As we walk out of OC Wine Mart, I stop in my tracks and look back at Ronni. I crease my eyebrows, stare directly into her eyes and I mouth, “YOU did this.” She knows what she did. I don’t, at all, because I’m drunk and making no sense at this point, but she knows.


Follow Brianna on Instagram at @brisglassofwine for dope pairings and honest reviews, and don’t forget to check out her blog at If you’re a wine enthusiast, I assure you, you won’t be disappointed.

If you ever read about the time I got drunk at work and got away with it, you probably realize by now that there’s a trend forming: I get drunk in peculiar ways or places then write about it. Who knows where I’ll end up next?


Bartender Fights Off Drunk Dude But Gets Finger Bitten Clean Off [VIDEO]

You can always spot the guy at the bar who’s had way too much to drink for the night. He’s either aggressively hitting on every girl, yelling out random obscenities, trying to start fights, or all of the above.

This guy in San Francisco did the latter, as there’s new footage of him outside of a bar, running his mouth to one of the bartenders, before things got physical and said drunk dude bit off the barkeep’s finger.

According to SF Gate, the man was kicked out of the Silver Cloud Restaurant & Karaoke Bar July 17, but still tried to get in through a window. After failed attempts to re-enter the bar, the dude lost his shit, started kicking the door, and the bartender had had enough. The bartender then went out, tried to send the guy on his way, leading to a scuffle between the two.

In surveillance video provided by CBS SF Bay Area, you can see the guy ripping open the bartender’s button up shit and wrestling with him before leaving the frame. At some point after, he bit the barkeep’s finger off.

The attempt to re-attach his finger at the hospital was unsuccessful and the drunk guy is still at-large. Yup. No happy ending here. Just a fingerless bartender who’s job just got a whole lot harder, and a drunk asshole that nobody can find.

Animals Beer

This LA Zoo Event Lets You Drink Craft Beer With Exotic Animals

The LA Zoo is having its 6th annual Brew At The Zoo! The event is on Friday, August 5th, at 7pm and advertises 40+ local breweries, live music, close-up animal encounters, and plenty of specialty food options.


They warn that the event often sells out so don’t miss out on your chance to drink a beer with a monkey! You can get your tickets early here.

Standard tickets are $65, but if you’re a designated driver you get a special pricing of $25, and there’s even an option for a VIP ticket at $125. The event is for guests 21 and over.

Some of the food items being offered to general admission ticket holders are: Bavarian glazed cinnamon roasted almonds, kettle corn, garlic fries, pulled pork sandwiches and more. VIP ticket holders have a much wider variety of a specialty foods offered including: Korean BBQ wings, Tex-Mex Brisket poutine, and specialty cocktails. You can find a full list of foods that will be available here.

The event description specifies that the animal encounters will be with the zoo’s “smaller residents” and that they will be retiring several of the other animals to their quarters for the night as they do with other events.

So you won’t exactly be having a beer with a lion, but hopefully you’ll be lucky enough to share a cold one with an anteater!

Either way, a zoo is a pretty spectacular and unique place to enjoy a good craft beer.

Looks like this keg belongs to our tiger! #BrewattheLAZoo!

A photo posted by The Los Angeles Zoo (@thelosangeleszoo) on

“Participating breweries* include Alosta Brewing Company, Alpine Beer Company , Angel City Brewing , Baja Brewing Company , Ballast Point Brewing , Barefoot Wine, Bootlegger’s Brewery , Breckenridge Brewery of Colorado, Common Cider, Figueroa Mountain Brewing Co., Fireman’s Brew Company, Firestone Walker Brewing Company, Golden Road Brewery , Goose Island , Great Divide Brewing Company, Green Flash Brewing Company , I&I Brewing , Indie Brewing Company , Iron Triangle Brewing, Kinetic Brewing Company, Knee Deep Brewing Co., Latitude 33 Brewing Co., MacLeod Ale Brewery, Mother Earth Brew Co., New Belgium, Pacific Plate Brewing , Pocock Brewing, Ritual Brewing Co., Samuel Adams, San Fernando Brewing Co. , Shock Top , Sierra Nevada Brewing Co., SKA Brewing , Stone Brewing Company, Surf Brewing , The Dude’s Brewing Company, The Traveler Beer Co., Transplants Brewing and Westlake Brewing Company.” –LA Zoo


Photo Credit: La Zoo

Fast Food

This McDonald’s Is Testing A ‘Walk-Thru’ For Drunk Customers Who Can’t Drive


Many times we’ve seen folks go through into the McDonald’s drive-thru line inebriated. Though usually they’re in the backseat screaming their orders into the speaker while their sober friends sit at the drivers seat incredibly annoyed.

At least they didn’t get behind the wheel.

What if you were drunk, craving McDonald’s, but didn’t have an empathic friend to cart you around? McDonald’s in the United Kingdom has a solution for just that.


According to The Sun, a McDonald’s location in Wales dedicates a drive-thru lane specifically for customers to walk up to and order their food without having to drive a car. McDonald’s has renovated most of their stores to feature two parallel drive-thru lanes to increase sales time. So there would still be one lane open for cars while the other is open to foot traffic.

This feature is only open from the hours of 2am through 4am during the weekends, typically when people finish partying and are looking for a bite to eat.

It was an immediate success and the franchise decided to keep it as a permanent feature at that location. They might just have to figure out a way to be careful of drunk people ordering next to moving vehicles so late at night.


Watch A Mountain Named Bubba Slap The Sh*t Out Of A Woman Beater At A Bar

Violence is never the answer. However, when someone is asking for it, sometimes they get what they deserve. This belligerent asshole slapped a woman, then immediately gets WALLOPED by a giant man named Bubba.

This dumbass is shirtless, clearly slurring his words, not to mention talking very disrespectfully to the young woman he claimed was “his sister.” That’s no way to treat your sister, either, by the way.

The man is obviously being kicked out of whatever establishment he was visiting, but was too belligerent to leave without a fight.

The video was uploaded to on July 20, the video now has more than 400,000 views in a few hours.

Hopefully, someone knows who this guy is and reports him to the authorities. This is unacceptable behavior.

The only person that can be thanked is Bubba. Thank you, Bubba for not killing this dumbass on camera.


Eric Clapton Got Drunk And Challenged George Harrison To A Guitar Duel

It’s so satisfying when new information comes out about our favorite celebrities, especially when it’s gossip and drama that happened years ago but is just now coming to light. Hell, even just this morning I heard about something juicy between Taylor Swift and Kim Kardashian, about one calling the other out for a three-year-old lie. I didn’t actually read it though because I just don’t give a fuck about anything Kardashian.

For those who didn’t know, two of the world’s greatest artists hated each other, and it was all over a girl (duh). George Harrison and Eric Clapton were not fans of each other, and the biggest reasoning for that is one Pattie Boyd. Pattie was George’s wife, yet Clapton was in love with her and was determined to win her over, even going so far as to write a little ditty about her called “Layla.” I’m sure you’ve heard of it.

Screen Shot 2016-07-18 at 1.35.53 PM

Well, Boyd revealed to Rolling Stones Magazine that one night, Eric Clapton showed up hammered to the Harrison estate and looking for trouble. He challenged the Beatles guitarist to a rock-off of sorts with dueling guitars. “George handed him a guitar and an amp — as an 18th-century gentleman might have handed his rival a sword — and for two hours, without a word, they dueled,” Boyd remembered.

Screen Shot 2016-07-18 at 1.34.09 PM

“At the end, nothing was said but the general feeling was that Eric had won. He hadn’t allowed himself to get riled or go in for instrumental gymnastics as George had. Even when he was drunk, his guitar-playing was unbeatable.”

At the end, nothing was said but the general feeling was that Eric had won.

The fact that two rock legends not only hated each other (only after Clapton confessed his love to Boyd), but even dueled about it, makes me wonder how many other secret celebrity-on-celebrity duels there have been in the world.

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Photo Credit: The Morton Report, Pinterest, TIME


What I Learned About Hollywood By Getting Drunk With Jack Sparrow

Above is Episode 1 of our new series All Nighter we’ve made with Tastemade. This story is what I learned about Los Angeles by drinking with Jack Sparrow on Hollywood Blvd.

1am it is. Hollywood Blvd is void of its daytime crowd, a few stragglers here and there, myself, our skeleton TV crew of Los Angeles natives, some homeless, and a few B-grade cosplayers. Jim, our rugged MacGyver sound guy tucks away behind a corner, artfully always out of frame. James, our fearless director and camera man is bug-eyed, his Jew-fro looking ever more all-over-the-place as he digs up our next shot.

“It’s dead out,” James manages surveying the empty streets, his face bleak and fatigued. Being up past 8pm is not a good look on skinny Seth Rogen.

I’m fucking sober. Wait, he can’t hear me. “I’m fucking sober.”

I have several airplane bottles of whiskey digging into my thigh, it’s been at least an hour since our last location filming All Nighter, and my buzz is fading quickly. Too long between sips and my energy is over. Too many drinks and I’m an asshole incapable of holding a conversation.


Superman and Jack Sparrow pose with some fans on Hollywood Blvd.

“Take a picture with Jack Sparrow and Superman,” James demands, as we walk up to a couple costumed actors. Jack Sparrow fit the bill nicely, a 40-year-old man with bags under his eyes. His sidekick, a high school-aged Superman, felt a little less accurate. He was baby-faced and endearing with virgin teeth and a costume two sizes too big. Superman flexes, Jack Sparrow gives me his gun, we all mean mug for James.

All Night

A photo posted by Elie (@bookofelie) on

James puts the camera down and immediately turns into a producer, “we have reservations at a bowling alley down the street, you guys want to bowl with our host for a scene in the show?”

Jim pops out from behind the corner with his sound equipment, Jack Sparrow takes note of the new addition to our TV street gang. Jack Sparrow speaks, “they don’t allow costumes there.”

James immediately begins the most trivial, yet oddly fascinating negotiating process I’ve ever been witness to. “How much for your time?”

“Well…we make about $5 a photo? Maybe $25 for a couple hours?” Sparrow said, initiating the casting process. I immediately began calculating this gentleman’s time in my head, and then looked over at the wide-eyed Superman who looked on in eager anticipation. Their night was wrapping up anyways, they both seemed pretty eager to be on camera and have their last hour of their work day accounted for.

Our crew walks away for a few moments to regroup. I crack open a high school-sized mini bottle of whiskey to lubricate.

We make a call to the bowling alley, and they concur that no costumed men are allowed. James makes an executive decision that the scene only works with Jack Sparrow, and the inclusion of Superman would crowd the frame.

By the time we returned to Jack and Superman, the two were lit up with excitement. Superman had apparently called his mom and told him he needn’t a ride any longer, and had picked up contact lens solution from the CVS up the street in preparation for his sleepover at Jack Sparrow’s.

James breaks the news that we’ll only need Jack Sparrow for the scene, he offers them both cash for their time, but that Superman would have to sit just off frame for the sake of the shot. I gulp and look at Superman’s young, once rosy cheeks and watch the color of opportunity wash away from his face. In that moment I saw every failed opportunity Hollywood ever dealt this young Superman in the gloss of his eyes. What would he tell his mom tomorrow morning when she asked how his night went?

I’d spent my entire life living just a half hour away from Los Angeles in sunny Orange County, but never once had I witnessed Hollywood in action. I’d heard about struggling actors, dealing with rejection, putting your heart out there week-after-week, but until this moment, I had never seen it in person. And just like that, we marched on to a dark alleyway because of course, “the show must go on.”



Jack Sparrow and I shared a few “street cocktails” and hammed up for the camera about the beauty of California, particularly Los Angeles.  

Our conversation brings up the usual themes, LA’s perfect weather, beautiful women, the land of opportunity — the entire boozy conversation occurring in an ironically dark back alley between a Jack Sparrow impersonator and a silly food blogger. All the while a defeated and equally hardworking Superman is slumped on the curb just out of frame and within earshot, waiting for this damn scene to end.

And despite trekking all over Los Angeles that evening, everything I learned about Hollywood was cemented in this scene. It takes a James being a shrewd producer and diligent director. It takes a Jim to capture the sound. It takes a Jack Sparrow to roam Hollywood Blvd looking for a buck and a performance. It takes a young actor like Superman to get sidelined for a scene that means nothing in the grand scheme of his career.

And that’s Los Angeles. It resembles a series of opportunities that can look like a kid in a Superman costume on Hollywood Blvd, or a street corn vendor in the valley. An audience will only see a finished product, their favorite movie or an interview on TV — but therein lies the beauty of it all, the wake of a production, the romanticism of not knowing what your next project could be.

“That’s a cut,” James squeaks whirring his camera off. Jack and I have bonded, we hug it out because that’s what fifteen minutes of sharing high-level stories about California will do to some bros. As we emerge from the dark alley Jack gives me a few tips for finding a good steak on Hollywood Blvd and how excited he is that his hometown St. Louis Rams are becoming the Los Angeles Rams. Superman is silent.

The main Hollywood drag is just as quiet as when we left it. We bid a final farewell to our two heroes — they walk back towards the bright lights while our team makes an opposite march away from the hoopla — back into the darkness.

Thanks Los Angeles.


Drunk Dude Tips $1,000, Shamefully Asks For It Back The Next Morning

As a former server, I can tell you that I used to thrive off of drunk guests. I would do everything in my power to make sure that they had a fantastic time, all the while ignoring the people I “knew” wouldn’t tip me well, like high school couples, Middle Eastern people and postal workers. The postal workers may not be a common thing, maybe I’ve just had a randomly bad history with them.

One particularly hammered man enjoyed his time at a restaurant called Thailicious in Denver so much that he ended up leaving a $1,088 tip for his server. The server was shocked at the generosity, but had the foresight to assume that this may have been a mistake. He immediately went to his superiors, husband and wife co-owners Surachai Surabotsopon and Bee Anantatho, and explained the situation to them.

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Husband and wife owners Surachai Surabotsopon and Bee Anantatho.

Thankfully, they had the forethought to hold onto the money for a short time, in case Drunky McTipstoomuch came crawling back, begging for his money, which is precisely what he did.

As soon as the restaurant opened the next morning, the customer was there waiting and apologizing profusely for the mistake. Anantatho felt bad for the man, so she very graciously returned the money when she certainly didn’t have to. She suspects that he thought he was leaving $1 bills instead of $100. The grateful customer then left a $40 tip for the server, which obviously isn’t a $1,000 tip, but most servers know better than to complain about a $40 tip.

I’m sure Anantatho, Surabotsopon and the rest of the staff will be seeing him again soon, since generosity and understanding like that from a restaurant deserves a lifetime of patronage from that very lucky man.



Photo Credit: The Denver Post, Moving Gal