While betches will always be down to drink pretty much anything that will get us inebriated, there is one category of alcohol that will always hold a special place in our hearts. Wine, duh.
We’re not talking about Franzia or anything that comes in a box or plastic bag, because that kind of shit will probably get you roofied at a frat party. Nor is a betch about to touch a screw-top wine bottle with a ten-foot pole. We’re talking about wines with names we can’t pronounce that are made from grapes grown in the year Laguna Beach aired… or even like, before that.
Betches love wine even when they don’t love wine. If you don’t like wine you better keep it a fucking secret or all your besties will think you’re a dumb trashy whore. Along with loving wine for the sake of getting fucked up, loving wine (or pretending to love wine) allows us to appear classy and sophisticated.
Okay, so I smoke pot every day and wear clothes so tight that my dad would shoot himself in the head if he saw, but you better fucking believe I know a good Pinot Noir when I see one!
Perhaps the most underrated perk of being a legitimate wine-o is that the classiness factor helps mask the fact that you’re really just trying to get drunk. Unlike tequila and straight vodka, it’s more “acceptable” to casually drink wine whenever you have the urge. What betch hasn’t gotten through a family function solely thanks to a constant flow of Sauvignon Blanc? If it had been cosmos, we’d be at Promises.
Betches also love to flaunt whatever “knowledge” they might have about wine because it shows bros that we’re all elegant and shit, and thus should be respected as such. “Well I guess we’ll just have the Chardonnay… Believe me, I took Introduction to Tuscan Wines in Florence, I know 1996 was a good year!
Nevermind that the only thing we learned about alcohol when we were #3 abroad was that 10 euros could either buy you 4 bottles of wine and a handle of Svedka, a beer mug at Oktoberfest, or half a drink at Otto Zutz.
Honestly betches, it’s time for a reality check. Finishing off several $13.99 bottles of wine a week does not make you an experienced drinker, so keep your mouth shut at dinner and let someone else do the tasting. You sound like an asshole, and no one believes you when you claim to know the difference between a Burgundy and a Bordeaux. The only legs you need to be concerned about are your own.
So save your shots for the pregame and your beer for when you can’t remember you drank it. A good wine drunk will put you to sleep faster than paying attention in any actual wines class. Stay classy ladies, drink fucking wine.