Gimme dat wine
Had I doubted this truism, the presence of not one, but two Web sites devoted to the cheap, alcohol-fortified wines favored by Skid Row denizens the folks we used to call "winos" back in the day would convince me.
Bum Wine you really can't get less politically correct than that focuses its attention on "the Big Five" wines targeting the habitual drunkard: Cisco, MD 20/20, Night Train, Wild Irish Rose, and the legendary Thunderbird. The site couples hilarious commentary ("If you like to smell your hand after pumping gas, look no further than Thunderbird") with the results of decidedly unscientific tests ("Some of our researchers indicated that [Night Train] gave them a NyQuil-like drowsiness, and perhaps this is why they put 'night' in the name").
Among the evaluative information to be found at Bum Wine: Thunderbird is the worst tasting of the Big Five, but Cisco (a product of which I was heretofore blissfully unaware) is to be preferred for its intoxicating qualities. MD 20/20 or "Mad Dog," as it's known in certain circles generates the highest degree of internal warmth for the consumer.
The writing style at Bum Wine reminds me of Las Vegas on 25 Cents a Day, a terrific place to get unvarnished information about the absolute cheapest eats, lodging, and entertainment in America's favorite vacation destination. I'm reasonably certain that the two sites are unrelated, however.
In case Bum Wine is just a mite too refined for your tastes, there's Ghetto Wine, which mostly forgoes the witty commentary in favor of a photographic record of the Big Five, as well as past and present products of similar ilk including Fred Sanford's beloved Ripple. (Children of the '70s will recall that Fred recommended a mixture of ginger ale and Ripple, a concoction he dubbed "Champipple.")
Being a teetotaler myself, I can't attest to the veracity of the data on either of these sites. I'm also a bit incredulous that the folks most inclined toward the consumption of fortified wines conduct their market research online.
I do, however, recall a summer job during my high school days, when I was employed as a stock clerk at a gas station mini-mart. One of my chief responsibilities was replenishing the refrigerated case in which the beer and wine were displayed. Our tiny shop did a land-office business in T-Bird (along with slightly less toxic, but equally cheap, potions such as Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill and Annie Green Springs Country Cherry) that summer.
I can't shake the feeling that somewhere in the Great Beyond, Fred Sanford is raising a paper cup of Champipple in salute.
As the venerable radio jingle used to trumpet: "What's the word? Thunderbird!"
Labels: Aimless Riffing, Cool Stuff, Food Glorious Food, Reminiscing, Teleholics Anonymous, Wonderful World of Advertising
4 insisted on sticking two cents in:
Where the heck is the Boone's Farm Strawberry, man! You know a party ain't a party with out the Boone's Farm!
Sam: I think I now understand what happened to your kidneys. ;)
There should be a companion site to BumWine called DrinksThatOnlyCollegeAgeGirlsOrder.com. It would extoll the virtues of Malibu, peach schnapps, non-apple ciders and blender drinks that are blue.
FTLT: I vote that you create that site immediately! :)
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