arson is tasty

We're constantly bombarded with stories. Some from our own brains, some from people who just like the sound of their voice, some we actually seek out and, often, those are the only ones that really interest us. Occasionally, though, an unsolicited story is surprisingly pleasing.

It's no secret that I dig stories. It's also no secret that I dig wine. The following are my impressions of an interesting story told to me over a glass of wine about said glass of wine. 

Heather and I went wine tasting (yay Groupon! yay wine!) because we're classy. That's a lie, we just really like wine. Usually, wine tasting for ladies of our ... nature... is an attempt to look and sound like we know and care about viticulture, and understand words like 'tannins' and what the what 'dirt' or 'boysenberry-ash' have to do with wine-flavors, when all we taste is, you know, wine. 

Meanwhile, we like to just chat. Over free wine. Undisturbed. This is impossible because winery owner/winemaker folk (wine-ers, if you will), are the most polite version of sales people ever. They're intrusive like used car salesmen, but helpful and sweet and actually care, and really really really want you to like and buy all their wine because its the fermented juice of their love fruit.

So, when Heather and I were purchasing our delicious vino, the nice lady said 'oh, did anyone tell you the story behind our wine?' at which point we both wanted to say 'yup, peace out, there's another wine tasting next door,' but she was so sweet and we did eat the complimentary snacks dipped in the chocolate fountain chocolate, so we smiled and said 'no, please do tell us all about it...'

What followed made me grin like a sadistic wino.

James Otis Kenyon was a dentist in Oregon in the early 1900s. When another dentist moved into town and started a practice, James BURNED HIS $*@%ing OFFICE DOWN. Badass. So, four generations of Otis Kenyons later, in Walla Walla, a vineyard was born bearing his name, with James' silhouette on a burninated label. One almost wants to see a gas can in his hand.

There's also a neat twist about how his wife hated him and told everyone he was dead but he was reunited with his family way later and lived to a hundred or something, but I was mostly shocked and pleased with the arson. You can read more about his story, and the wine, and even buy some (it's not just interesting, it's yummy, really) here.

Wino Magazine published another great article about this not-just-awesome-to-me story in 2009.

Oh, also, they offered matches in baller little matchboxes with the same label in the tasting room. SOLD.

why reading comprehension is more important than your face

warning: this post is not about books. i need to read more books other people are reading because otherwise i feel like a spoiler or a pretentious lady. i also need to read more books. that being said, i like reading because it increases my brains and heightens reading comprehension, which is a more useful skill than math or other things.


i was thinking to myself whilst cruising craigslist, "why is all the people so not awesome at words and spellinks?" it's because they are failures. LATER i was also thinking about The Phantom Tollbooth and how it is so spectacular. then i went DING ! reading comprehension. i enjoy puns and plays on words and silliness in language BECAUSE I GET IT. i do not enjoy poor grammar and spelling because THEY RUIN MY FUN.


if i could doodle awesome doodles like Allie, i would doodle you a picture of person walking down the street holding the bloody stubs of a bear's feet with passers by a-gawking in terror. probably followed by a very sad, footless bear. but instead i'll give you this:

WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? - you


well, says i, i will tell you. don't walk around with bear feet. this is funny to me, because one's feet tend to be bare, as opposed to belonging to a bear. this is funny.


sometimes, however, people aren't trying to be funny; they're just wrong. in these cases, they insert hilarious images into my brain. if this happens too often, i might start taking people seriously when they say things they don't mean. like on craigslist. 


to wit: a listing for an apartment for rent led with the subject line, "section eight excepted." .... lemme let that sink in a sec. ok sooooo i read that as discrimination, but i'm SURE they MEANT 'accepted.'


point: if you don't get it (reading comprehension), you'll sound like a tool. if you sound like a tool, people will think you're a tool. even if you're not a tool. subpoint: because english is such a mishmash of languages and proletarian hullabaloo and a variety of hifalutin and total-garbage vernaculars, if enough people use a word that's not a word, or think a word means something it doesn't, IT BECOMES A WORD. like magic. BLACK magic. that's why 'irregardless' is in the dictionary. it's also why flammable and inflammable mean the same thing. I HATE THAT AND IT RUINS MY FUN. 


i keep getting distracted by this awesome bear. he's like 'my feet?' i love it. anyway. reading comprehension is an important skill. know what makes you more gooder-er at it? reading. know what book will make you laugh your pants off while learning to comprehend VERDS? the phantom tollbooth. i may have lied earlier when i said this post wasn't about a book. ok, they also made a movie, but it's way funnererer to read the funny because it's about words.


and a little bit about numbers. this guy (the mathemagician) thinks numbers are the only thing thing that count. GET IT?!!?