Yes, you’re in the right place!
Free stuff. Right here…
But I’m sorry to disappoint. I’m not giving away the sexy underwear. Nor am I offering up the contents of the sexy underwear. I really just love gazing at that photo. Those London mannequins have got it going ON.
I am also not giving away a sea scallop.
Since most of you who read this blog appear to be big time boozers (the misspellings in the comment section and late night emails which include naked photos of yourselves are a dead giveaway ) I’ve decided to bestow you with something you can all put to good use.
Wine glasses.
Ooooh. FOUR fancy schmancy beautiful Ravenscroft CRYSTAL wine glasses courtesy of the fine people at CSN. They also sell barstools if you need something to sit on while you get drunk. And who doesn’t? I usually just end up slumped in a corner of a strange abandoned warehouse somewhere hoping a barstool will miraculously find my ass (Okay, I think the extremely nice CSN people probably regret offering me their fine products now…)
Just imagine how impressed your friends from the miniature Darth Vader porcelain doll club will be when you invite them over to sip pineapple-ham Schnapps from a real glass, instead of an old shoe you found in the grass of the empty lot where you go to pee late at night after leaving the pub.
You can also throw out that old rusty tin can you’ve been using to sip your prized 1982 Chateau Margaux.
But in order to get these fine crystal wine glasses there are rules. There are always rules here at Brilliant Sulk.
Rule #1. Don’t talk about Brilliant Sulk.
Okay, NOT TRUE. Stupid Fight Club reference that’s been used too many times. I apologize.
Tell all of your friends that I’m giving away FREE stuff. Have them read the blog. I’ll even send them an autographed 8×10 glossy of me doing laundry. In the nude. I’m lying. I don’t do laundry. Ever.
So, back to the rules…
Use the comment section below to tell me about your (or your alter ego’s) most memorable moment in which a wine glass was involved. Doesn’t matter if the wine glass was stored out of sight up in the china cupboard or you had the wine glass balanced on your flat head. The wine glass had to be in the same room as you.
Be creative.
Please remember that making stuff up is wholeheartedly encouraged.
I will choose a winner on Sunday April 18 at dusk. I’ll be wearing my black velvet cape and noshing on vegan mini wieners in a blanket, slathered in hot spicy mustard. Too much information? Sorry.
Ready?
GO.
30 Comments
True story. I was bragging about my mad cooking skillz to a lovely young lady. The topic was carne asada and in response to my claim that I make the best carne asada there is, she scoffed and threw a tortilla across the room like a frisbee, whereupon it sliced through the stem of one of my wine glasses like a shuriken. Wine spilled everywhere and I wound up getting a date out of the deal.
.-= Transplanted Lawyer´s last blog ..Web Browser Fantasy =-.
Okay, I had look up what a “shuriken” was.
Are you a ninja assassin? Because that would be cool. Glad you got a date, still together?
Ahh the scallop. To think I almost offended you with my comments about that beauty.
My wine story involves probably hundreds of wine glasses at a very large and involved wine tasting in NYC. As you know at wine tastings there is a spit bucket. That EVERYONE spits their tastes of wine into…in NYC. Yes thousands of people spit their wine that has been swriled around their filty whore mouths into these spit buckets. Including me…exactly three times because on only my third taste I spit and not very elegantly (I am a much better swallower…heh) into a very full of filthy whore mouth wine bucket and my taste hit with a thud causing big droplets of filthy whore mouth pretasted wine to splash up into my eyes, my nose, all over my face infecting me with filthy whore mouth wine.
I proceeded to swallow hundreds of tastes of wine after that, one to dull the pain of being infected and two because THAT was never going to happen to me again. I then left the wine tasting with my NEW boss and proceeded to knock over a bunch of bicycles that jumped out of the rack and attacked me when all I was doing was trying to steady the ground. Sigh. (I am out of the restaurant business now.)
.-= A Vapid Blonde´s last blog ..Sleepsex, Dog Years & Grapefruit =-.
Oh my god. That is worse than falling into a vat of semen laced with STD. I just vomited.
.-= kelly´s last blog ..Doodles =-.
BLECH. That’s gross! I think that’s the equivalent to licking a men’s room floor.
I never understood the whole wine tasting thing. I don’t think I could spit in front of strangers.
Cool. Will tweet about this. As for wine story… I need my morning coffee first…
.-= subWOW´s last blog ..Teaching Kids Simple Words: Part 1 =-.
wait, things happen when wine isn’t involved? I’m a little shaken up by this. At first I didn’t understand, but now I’m wondering how to put the glass down… no really. But have you ever tried camping with wine glasses? I know, I had you at camping. But really. Trekking up into the scary bear filled woods to hang around fire– because I HAVE, and it made for a much more elegant evening of scary mountain lions that were just on the edge of EATING US. So what better time to hike around with fine crystal? Especially when you are about to be RIPPED TO SHREDS.
.-= Ry Sal´s last blog ..CAPTCHA if you Can. =-.
I like your style.
I’ve never been camping and I can probably say I will never go camping. EVER.
Is it wrong that I have wine glasses and wine stashed in my car just in case I get stranded on the side of the road? In the middle of San Francisco?
My daughter bought me one of them there fancy Lolita wine glasses from the hallmark store where she worked. Well, shortly thereafter the evil hallmark queen fired her ass due to lack of availability. But she did it on the back of a torn piece of scrap paper stuffed in my daughter’s paycheck. My daughter discovered she had been fired when went in to cover for another girl and picked up her paycheck. She called me balling her eyes out to come get her.
A week later I filled my lovely Lolita glass with vintage Franzia, walked into the Hallmark store, and asked to speak to the owner. I said I wanted to return the glass. She said I couldn’t and asked me to leave. I said, “Okay and by the way, nice job firing my 16-year old from her first job on a piece of scrap paper. You should have done it in person so you could have witnessed the tears for yourself.” *Ooopsie. I accidentally spilled and broke my glass on her counter.* “And next time stick a gold crown on it, bitch.”
So you can see I’m in need of new glasses.
.-= pattypunker´s last blog ..pause before you play, my ass =-.
You sound like the best mom EVER!
Wow, I was going to blog tonight, but I’d much rather comment on your blog because I need me those wine glasses. Plus I have never told this story: BigB and I often entertain and after one very entertaining party, I think it might have been New Year 2000, all the (drunk) guests thought it would be funny to throw their wine glasses at the fireplace. And I, in a Merlot haze, condoned this act (in fact, might have started it with a smashing behind the back double flip curve glass toss), and when we woke up the next morning we had the makings of a lovely glass mosaic art project, but no wine glasses. So Chicken checked in with his sources and found out that a bunch of Riedel wine glasses that recently fell off a truck (but miraculously were not broken, wrapped as they were, in some pretty impressive bubble wrap) were available just over the Candian border. So Chicken, me, and Sam (my dog) embarked (ha) on a little side trip to Montreal to relieve a driver of his excess of well-wrapped wine glasses. The source warned us that waiting at the border would be a troll who would ask us two questions, and if we answered the questions correctly, he would provide a Mounty escort to the truck with the lovely wine glasses. So we rolled up to the border, and all the way there, we were tossing back and forth the possible questions that might be asked. Chicken said, “maybe they want to test our wine knowledge”, so we discussed Merlot Vs. Shiraz Vs. Pinot Noir. I thought the troll might talk in riddles, like What Comes in a Bottle with a Cork, and I was all like, “Ships. Ships come in bottles, right?”, and Sam said, “Consigliere, you’re so stupid. The troll is obviously there for border control and he will only want to see your passport. You brought it right?”, and then he will ask you what the nature of your visit is, and we will say we are visiting our nephew who just had a very cute baby” Sam was so arrogant. But usually right. So I said, “No, I do not have a passport. I never GO anywhere”, and Chicken said, “No prob. Get in the back, hunker down, we’ll cover you with a blanket and they will never know you are there.” So I do that. We get to the border. The border guard checks their passports and yes, he does ask the nature of the visit. Sam shows him pictures of the very cute baby. He takes a good look because you do not often see a chicken driving a Hummer, accompanied by a dog, both with passports, but all is legit, so he starts to let them through. But then he pauses. And he says, “hey, by the way, before you can cross you need to answer this riddle: Why did the chicken cross the road?”, and Chicken got all flustered because although he crosses the road ALL the time, he never seems to have any idea why (it is sort of an OCD thing, plus when he does it he is usually “medicated”), Sam is a dog and he’s looking at Chicken like, “Dude, you cross the road all the TIME! WTF? Why do you do that?”, and I had fallen asleep under a blanket in the back of the hummer due to lack of oxygen and multiple jello shots on the way, so I did not even hear the riddle. Long story short, we never got those wine glasses and I need some but I promise we will not throw them at the fireplace.
PS, BS, I wish you would post every day because you are like wine to my soul
.-= Chicken´s last blog ..K is for Canape… =-.
I just love stories about border crossings and wine and jell-o shots and
stemware and cute babies and dogs and…
Okay. I’ll stop now.
Is this true? Do you have photos?
Wine GLASSES? You mean, I’m not supposed to be swigging from the bottle?
.-= Mama Zen´s last blog ..Teacher Wanted =-.
I often swig from the bottle. It’s usually because I just can’t seen to make it ALL the way into the dining room to fetch a glass.
Um…I am in love with Chicken.
.-= A Vapid Blonde´s last blog ..Mongolian Death Worms and Shankings =-.
I went to a “Wine Bar” with a co-worker and her stripper bff, for a “girls night out.” I was TANKED. TANKED, I tell you. Anyway, they abandon me to do stripper bff things in the bathroom, and I am left alone at the table listening to Fleetwood Mac, people watching. And, this man and woman at the bar are having this really intense conversation. She’s clearly upset. He’s very animated and big and scary–and he keeps grabbing her. There’s a lot of gesticulation. Finally, she looks like she’s about to cry, and all I can hear is “no,” “not,” and “I don’t think so.”
And, like, I’m looking around in my drunken haze to see if ANYONE else is seeing this?
No one appears to be. And, co-worker/stripper pair are probably off doing blow in the bathroom or something. So, I go over to these two total strangers, put on my best (slurry) authoritative voice, and say (slur), “ISH EVERYTHING OKAY HERE? DO YOU NEED, HELP?”
And, I guess they realized at that second what it LOOKED LIKE. Her eyes are still huge and teary, “Oh, no, we’re fine.”
“She was just telling me a story,” he said.
“Are yoush sure?” I ask her. “Cause you can come sit with me.”
“Oh, no, oh no, it’s really okay.”
So, I go back to my seat. And, you know, *drink some more.* And, like, homedude keeps looking at me like I have personally insulted his honor forever and ever.
And, the barkeep, a few minutes later, comes over with a GIANT glass of wine, and says, “It’s on the house. They’re regulars, he’s a jerk, and I wish more women would look out for each other.”
Moral of the story: Drunken butting-in will score you free booze. Or, a mugging in the parking lot.
.-= Veronica´s last blog ..100_1321 (by maybe.sparrow)Yesterday, V. had to take the ADOS… =-.
You are BRAVE! But good for you. I do lots of things when I’m druunk…
Oops. Typo. I’m not drunk. At the moment.
Did the dynamic duo ever return from the bathroom?
Uggg.
I’m the only idiot without a whimsical wine glass story.
Perhaps I could make one up about the time I inherited a neglected vinyard from the father I never knew and toiled with sweat and tears to turn it around and make it a raging success?
No, that would be cheating.
Shards from a broken wine glass once cut a deep gash in my finger during a family wedding. Does that count?
.-= kelly´s last blog ..Doodles =-.
Kelly, do you know that I know someone who’s estranged father has a vineyard in spain and now she lives with him? That is bizarre.
.-= A Vapid Blonde´s last blog ..Mongolian Death Worms and Shankings =-.
Oh that’s a good story, I like it!
Not the cut, the vineyard thing…
Hello Darling-No need for wine glasses over here at alkie central but then again I am going to CHico to visit College daughter for weekend…hmmm and they do some drinking there ,I hear. Ah… No need they have the red plastic cups for wine glasses-:) Have a good weekend. I have missed you funny girl- glad I popped over:)
xoxo
Laurel
.-= laurel´s last blog ..Resentments Suck -sit tight, it is a long one Peeps. =-.
“Alkie central” Ha-ha…
Hope you had fun visiting your daughter. I picture you as one those moms that always gets mistaken for “sister” instead of “mother.” True?
Screw writing about a wine glass – can we talk about that package on the mannequin? I want to know who he’s modeled after. Looks like a guy I saw on a gay beach in Puerto Vallarta.
.-= Mountain Momma´s last blog ..Maxi-pad Discipline =-.
I know, right?
I have never seen a package like that here in the U.S., took the photo in London. I never knew British men had big weenies…
I read this earlier in the week and grrrl it is messing with my brain. Last night I dreamed my mom and I were doing jello shots in Atlantis, minding our own biz when who should walk in? Rod Motherfuckin Stewart. So I grabbed the wine glass of the guy next to me, cracked the bottom of the stem by slamming it onto the bar, and proceeded to stab Rod in the left eye. Then Mom won the limbo contest and won a gilded scallop.
Oh my head.
.-= Elly Lou´s last blog ..This Week’s Tweets =-.
OH NO! Rod Stewart?
I believe that is called a NIGHTMARE, Miss Elly.
But the scallop was a nice touch.
Of course you had to give away something food or wine related. Nice wine glasses. Sorry I’m too late to enter but I hope the winner get’s trashed and sends you some pics with the glasses for the blog.
Thanks for stopping by on my SITS day!
.-= Sophia’s Mom aka The Wannabe WAHM´s last blog ..Welcome SITSas! =-.
Nobody ever sends good naked photos. Sick of it…
I hope your SITS situation gets better. Try some ointment.
Okay. Ready? The winner is…
CHICKEN!
Your post brought a tear to my eye. Anybody who crosses the border under a blanket in the back of a Hummer deserves those damn glasses.
Congratulations!
Thank you so much Brilliant Sulk and Ravenscroft. I’d also like to thank the academy and Vapid Blonde (I love you too), and Veronica, I would have voted for you because I think that is an incredibly brave thing to do and I’m proud of you. You also have a great drunk writing “accent” (I don’t know what to call it. Voice?). YOu know what I mean. And Elly Lou, my friend GG used to say that if Sex had a voice it would be Rod Stewarts. But maybe that was in his younger days? I still like his voice. And the more jello shots I have the better I like it. I hate his dancing though. Thanks again, BS
.-= Chicken´s last blog ..L is for Letter and M is for Mom UPDATED =-.