Hints of Dutch lavender, with a roasted lemongrass finish…

Yea, u get to hear shit like dat when u go for booze tastings. Always blows me away. Haha!

Either i have a retarded tongue, or i’m really bad at description, coz most of d time, i dont get what the experts say they’re gettin.

They will sniff and sip a wine and describe all these lovely things they’re experiencing. Trippin out n shit. Makes me jealous actually.

I on d other hand will down it and say to myself, “Daaam, dis shit tastes like wine alrite!” Still, i enjoy attending tastings, especially wines, coz i goddam luv drinking wine. Lots of character and stories in wines. And wine gets me high in a hurry.

It’s also the only acceptable accompaniment to Italian food. NOT iced-lemon tea.

Did a judging of 28 wines once, which was awesome.

Blind tasting in session

Blind tasting in session

Some tasting notes i have for a wine says “It exhibits extraordinary purity, and beautiful sweet blackberry and cassis notes along with hints of graphite, camphor, and a subtle, but intense meaty character. It’s already revealing a wide array of aromas including blackberry tart, cedar, violets, truffles, liquorice.”

Huh what? U wanna run dat by me again?

When they start putting camphor in, dats too much. I mean, i aint got goddam cockroaches in my stomach to have to fuckin drink camphor.

“Blackberry tart”? Now there’s a tart in there too! Wow, can i meet her?

Should shove a bottle of tuak down one of their throats and say “U detect the tart now bitch??”

What are these guys, fuckin botanists?

But it is pretty impressive, actually.

An orchard

An orchard

i can detect elements like fruit, vanilla, tannins, mellowness/boldness, spice, dryness, smoothness, oak and the length. But I start to get lost / high, when things i’ve never had before get mentioned, like gooseberries (is dat goose shit?), and honeyed junipers.

Next time, i’ll try harder. Need to be more focused and sensitive. Close my eyes and do it right. And spew lines like “Hmmm… Yes, yess. Veeery interesting. Yesss. I too detect a gallant presence of vanilla, tempered by a rather teasing whiff of lightly-sauteed night-picked mushrooms, bold pillars of spring flowers, with a seductive nibble of freshly-ground, summer-sunned horse shit. Yes, yess.”

To each his own i guess. What would be good is a wine education session based on smells (and tastes) Malaysians are more familiar with, like lychee, satay, Roti Boy and exhaust fumes. Otherwise how do we relate?

Well, if u ask me, booze is not meant to be over-analyzed. It’s meant to be appreciated and enjoyed. Of course to appreciate, u need to be informed and educated. If u wanna over-analyze, go for a food review or get a PhD.

Tequila-tastings i have no problems with. Aint really refined, high-society events

Tequila-tastings, i have NO problems fitting in. Aint exactly refined, high-society events

There’s this great article at Playboy.com about wine snobs and how to get into their game, called Real Wine, Fake Experts. There’s dis dude who writes for Playboy, Dan Dunn aka the Imbiber. Funny guy. Quote: “I routinely encounter pompous schmucks who believe they possess God’s own palate, and that they deserve the adulation of everyone around them for swirling some fermented grape juice around in their mouths and pronouncing it “troubling, yet brilliant.”.

And tip No 7 .
7. DON’T SLURP. DON’T SPIT. DON’T USE THE PHRASE “NICE LEGS”
It’s a wine tasting, not a construction site.

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The best AND worst spot for a Guinness…

… has to be Chili’s. They serve the best Guinness, but the policies are dumb, n d managers are possibly escaped chimpanzees.

I know many people who’ve had arguments with the managers at all Chili’s outlets – usually over stupid shit. Me included. Will get to that later.

Yea!

Yea!

Anyway, the Guinness here is good. It’s d creamiest n by far the coldest u’ll find, as they’re served in thick-glass, frozen mugs. Most outlets, including Sid’s, dont freeze or even chill their glasses, and d Guinness is not cold enough. As soon as it’s poured into the warm glass, the drink starts to lose its taste. But Chili’s is only worth visiting during happy hours, which is 3pm to 7pm. It ends way too early.

As good as ice-cold root beer!

As good as ice-cold root beer!


Incident One

Went to d Bangsar outlet with a friend n sit at d bar. I ask d waitress for d drinks list. We feel like vodka orange. Then i ask her, “Is it still happy hours for liquor?” She says yes. I say “OK then, gimme two screwdrivers.” I’m obviously referring to the happy hour drinks.

The drinks come. We order two more, then ask for d bill. Instead of billing us about $25, it’s around $80. I ask the bartender “What’s this?” He says “U ordered screwdrivers – no happy hours for that”. We argue.

Eventually a dumb manager appears. Instead of solving the problem, he makes it worse. With a sour face, he says “Vodka orange and screwdrivers are different.” (Yea, only on your moron planet. Dats like saying milo-ais and milo-peng are different drinks, with different prices.) “Here a screwdriver is a premium cocktail, so we use premium vodka. (By premium, he meant Absolut. Haha. In other words, its probably shit vodka from Klang otherwise.) No happy hour prices. You have to say vodka orange.”

Right.

So is it my fault your waitress is a dummy dat u pay 50 cents an hour? It aint my problem if Chilis are d only ones in d world that thinks vodka orange and screwdrivers are different drinks.

In-bred freak insists it’s not d waitress’ fault, but mine. I refuse to pay.

A gorilla shows up and stands next to d manager. Probably the BSC valet niga, part-timing as a gorilla. What, u wanna beat me up over this?? Pathetic.

My friend said a few words but she mostly observed, although she wanted to slap d manager. We tell them they’re talkin shit and  ignore them.

So we continue to sip our drinks with these two goons there standing next to us and staring at us. Haha!

Then when we’re done, i say, “We’re leaving. U either take what i pay u, or we gonna leave and ur not getting a goddam cent.”

Manager continues to stare. Look like he’s gonna cry. Eventually d real bill appears. I throw d cash n we leave.

FYI – a customer refusing to pay a bill for food/drinks or services rendered is not committing an offence. The police cant do shit. It’s a private contract between u and d outlet. If the management wants to recover d money, they will have to sue you in court. How dahell they gonna do dat when they have no idea who u are? So screw them over if even try to screw u.

O yea – another time a mug of Guinness dat my friend was drinking (same outlet) suddenly cracks and da shit spills all over her pants. D waiter says, “Sorry, will replace dat. It happens sometimes.” U spill drink all over my friend and u just gonna replace that drink? How kedekut. The least they could have offered was one complimentary Guinness for her or a meal.

(Breakage can happen when there’s some water in d mug before they freeze it.)

.

Incident Two

I was at the KLCC outlet once with a couple of chicks. We wanted to have a proper tequila session. I ask for a bottle of Jose Cuervo.

Waiter pauses, then says, “I’m sorry sir, I cant serve you a whole bottle.”

I ask why. “Just give us the bottle man. We’ll finish it tonite. We’ll be doin shots.”

” I cant sir. We cant charge by bottle.”

– “Why not man? How many shots in the bottle? 25? U can charge us by shots but bring d bottle. Watsup?”

“I’m sorry sir, this is a family restaurant!”

Ooo. I didnt realize i was in KFC man! Family restaurant my ass! Why dahell is there a full-bar in d outlet? For little children to get smashed?

So i say, “What?! U kiddin me man??”

“No sir. We cant serve u a bottle.”

They wanna be a family restaurant and think that me n two little girls might get tipsy n trash d joint, okay, thats fine.

So i say  “Nevermind, we’d like 3 tequila shots each to start.”

He says, “I’m sorry sir, i cant serve all at the same time. U have to finish your drink, then order again.

How inefficient is dat??

So i say, “It’s a goddam shot. We’re doin shots – as soon as it arrives, it’s gone. Then we gotta wait 10 minutes for d next one?”

Bla bla fuckin bla. He finally surrenders and serves us what we want.

They have this stupid rule that u cant order your next drink if u still have some drink left! Haha! Morons.

It's shady characters like these that give customers a bad name

It’s shady Chili’s customers like these that cause trouble

.

Incident Three

A bunch of friends had gone to Chili’s for happy hours. There were too many of them, n d bar area was really congested, and people couldnt really move, staff included. So my friend asks d waiter to open a “Section Closed” area for them. He says “Sorry, only at 6pm.” This was at 5.45pm!

Eventually manager comes. Chimp refuses to open the area, although an exception to the rule was obviously needed. They argue. And keep arguing quite fiercely. By now it’s five minutes to 6pm. He refuses to budge. Dick.

So they leave and spend their money elsewhere.

.

Incident Four

My housemate Khang joins his co-workers at Chili’s Megamall just as happy hours ends. His Guinness is waiting at the table, pre-ordered. He asks d waiter as his bill comes if the Guinness is at happy hour price. Waiter says no. Disappointed, Khang says “fuck”, and promptly pays d bill.

A few minutes later the floor captain shows up. He tells Khang, “U have to apologize to my staff. U swore at him.”

Khang explained that he was not swearing at anyone, just to himself for being late. Stupid captain insists that Khang apologize. Khang gets pissed, so his friend steps in to slow-talk. No use.

So they ask for d manager. Some foreign white dude shows up. He hears the story. Then says “You have to apologize to my staff.”

Khang’s friend also gets pissed! Haha! Then he says they dont want customers like them around!

What kind of staff would go n cry to his boss when a customer swears??

Obviously, though they were regulars, they swore never to go back there. Same deal with me n the hopeless Bangsar outlet.

There were also banned from d outlet!

.

If u know anyplace dat has good Guinness in frozen mugs, inform me ASAP.

If they continue like dis, i foresee a nice, good fight breaking out in their outlet soon – managers vs customers. My money is on customers.

The managers are extremely confrontational and petty. I think they need some serious education about the F&B culture in Malaysia.

But I really dont know watsup with them. Anal and stupid is an understatement. I suspect they could be robots. With no manual over-ride.

Hence when a situation occurs that is not in their hard disk, they freak. “Overload!!! Overload!!!……. Must kill customer!” Coz programmers forgot to include common-sense and discretion.

American Chilis – “Where the customer is always wrong.”

God knows what the franchiser in US is doing about all this. They gettin a real bad rep.

The company needs to get all their staff laid. I think there’s some in-breeding goin on.

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Langkaued-up with them Ibans

Phew. Five days in Sarawak went by in a flash.

Must be the mental haze caused by all dat langkau, the local Sarawak liquor-moonshine made from rice. Similar to lao lao from Laos.

If it looks hardcore, it is

Like some hard-hittin chicano party. If it seems hardcore, it was

Started the trip in style – straight from Kuching airport to this local hotel, Telang Usan, the usual pit-stop for a heavy tuak + laksa lunch. Got wasted then headed to Damai, a seaside area where the resorts and Rainforest World Music Festival venue (SCV – Sarawak Cultural Village) are.

Rice. Nice

Rice. Nice

As we had rooms in SCV, a couple of their staff came out to greet us. As soon as i put my backpack on d road, there was a sound – a clunk of tuak bottles. The guys, Leo and Bujang, heard it. I thought they would give us the official line – “No outside drinks allowed”.

Leo says “That’s a nice sound!” I reply “Yea, tuak!” He says “We have langkau! Come over to the Iban Longhouse tonite.” Surprised and glad, I say “OK.” The village has various showhouses of the major tribes in Sarawak.

Our pad was in the Melanau Tall House – a huge house on 49 high pillars.

High in our high house

High in our high house

Around midnight, a bunch of us head to the Iban Longhouse. I’ve had much drinking experience with d locals – in urban scenes as well as deep upriver in d interior longhouses, so i knew wat to expect – hardcore shit. Expect no mercy, show no mercy! But some of d boys were nervous. Haha!

When we go in, there’re a bunch of locals doin langkau, with Leo n Bujang. We get down to business. A little cup was passed around. It was sum cocktail – langkau plus some Tsingtao beer. Watever. Once u sit your ass on the ruai, you don’t get fussy or picky. U down wat u get.

“Express style,” Leo says. Which means the cup keeps going around. A shot is poured, u shout ooooohaaa!, down it, and pass it back to the tekong aka sadong – which is d guy who does d pouring, which was Bujang. He keeps pouring n passing. Later he adds tuak to d mix! Unheard of man, unheard of.

Leo, the Maori-lookin Iban

Leo, the Maori-lookin Iban

Then some other moonshine shows up – Glenford whisky. Made in Sibu. 15 bucks a bottle – shockingly smooth. Then Bujang mixes d whisky n the langkau. Neat.

Gosh, what a session. Fuckin merciless. Get high or die tryin.

Always a lot of thirsty people in Sarawak. I like.

We staggered home.

D next day was Friday, d start of d three-day fest. D music on Friday night, like last year, was crap. I didnt bother to attend d night show coz d tunes would have put me to sleep, so partied in d room.

Our little party room aka d Penthouse aka d Crack Den aka the Whore House

Ben Bitch in our little party room aka d Penthouse aka d Crack Den aka the Whore House

From others’ feedback, music was crap. Lullabies.

Friday nite n Saturday nite we end up with d Iban boys again after d gig, with a twist – there was a snack with d langkau – live, fatass sago worms. Joleen had gone to her kampung in Bau n got some. Fuckdatshit. I wasnt planning on havin any. D others went for it. “Crunchy n juicy” it seems. I’ll stick to crunchy peanuts n juicy pork ribs with my booze.

Fat fucks.

Fat fucks tryin hard to make a getaway

D boys introduced us to a new kid called Royal. At 15 bucks a bottle, a good deal. Another Sibu product. Sarawak’s sure got a thrivin liquor industry! The label says brandy-flavoured liquor. Haha! At least it was smooth, though neat. Some dude called Alfred seems to vouch for its quality. Whodafuck Alfred?

If u say so Al

If u say so Al

Which one's water, which one's langkau?? Only one way to find out. Actually two - taste it or smell it

Which one’s water, which one’s langkau?? Only one way to find out. Actually 2 – taste it, or smell it. In dis case, langkau at rear

D band worthy of being labelled as world music n deserved to be there was Akasha (Malaysia). Brickfields Blues was super. And of course the Irish Joget. Awesome mix of traditional and modern styles! (Listen here). But some idiot put them on as d first act, when their rockin, creative tunes should have been d closing act. Seems like Malaysian bands never get to be the closing act.

The music flow at the festival was pretty bad. An upbeat band followed by dinner / elevator music (Red Chamber, China). Saturday night i went back to d room midway. Haha. Coz d music was affecting my high. Potong nevermind, but fuckin turun straight.

D fest should be renamed d world jazz fest or chillout tunes fest. Coz dat sums it up. Musically it has become unexciting and very ordinary since ’07. The crazy bands are gone, so are the tribal tunes. The crowd seemed less this year.

Dont matter, coz i had a fuckin blast anyway. Ben Bitch said sumtin weird one of those nites  – “I’m drunk like no drunk before!”

Headed straight to Sid’s Pub for drinks after arrival at LCCT. Had to end it right. Need closure.

Thank God for d crew i was with n d boys who hosted n entertained us there. OOOOHAAAA mafuckers!

Chillin..

Chillin..

Our vill

Our vill

Yea, leave those beers n go kid

Yea, deliver our breakfast n scram, u man-faced kid

Ben Bitch lettin loose in an outhouse

Ben Bitch lettin loose in an outhouse, with Bunkface queuing-up

A kliering (burial pole)

A kliering (very large burial pole)

The finale, Sunday nite

The finale, Sunday nite

Quality

Quality. Alfred quality

Ben Bitch doin some nightwater rafting

Ben Bitch doin some nightwater rafting

Da beach, Damai

Da beach, Damai

Trendy head-hunting swords. Used.

Trendy head-hunters’ swords. Used.

After-touchdown-party

After-touchdown-party, KL

My thirst was quenched!

My thirst was quenched!

Brain damage rating: 9/10

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All aboard… the NIGHT TRAIN!

Loaded like a freightrain

Flyin like an aeroplane

Feelin like a space brain one more time tonite!

Nightrain – by G ‘n R

.

Makes u feel like a locomotive engine

Makes u feel like a locomotive engine. Cant clean drains tho

Yup, d one & only Nightrain Express! If u know what dat is, u an alconnoisseur. And ur sure to have your own Night Train incidents!

As u can see rock n roll bad boyz Guns ‘n Roses even dedicated a song to it.

As guitarist Duff said “We had no money but we could dig up a buck to go down to this liquor store. It happened to have this great wine called Nightrain that would fuck you up for a dollar. Five dollars and you’d be gone. We lived off this stuff.”

James Brown did one night train tune too, maybe as a tribute to da shit that has probably killed many people around d world. Not coz its toxic (well, if u down a few bottles u could probably die), but it gets u THERE in a hurry, sometimes unexpectedly.

Ghetto buddy

Ghetto brother

It’s a fortified apple wine from Modestos, California, by E&J Gallo. It’s ABV is 18% (hence fortified). I have no idea why its red tho. Maybe gasoline. But it’s not banned here or in the US, so sallgood.

It falls under the category of a bum wine aka street wine aka hooch aka wino wine aka ghetto wine aka liquid crack.

In college, we lived off this stuff too. It was $6.50 a bottle (easy twist-off cap) when I bought my first. My most heavy, off-the-rails, liver-shredding, train-wreck experience ridin d Train happened in downtown KL, during my college days.

I borrow my sista’s wheels n pick my friend Bala n sum other niga (cant remember who) and park near d Beach Club car park, n chill in d car for a bit. It ‘s a Friday nite n we gonna hit Hard Rock Café n party like shit n meet sum chicks.

There are three bottles of Train in d car. With GnR bouncing in d speakers, we promptly destroy them (one bottle each. Not recommended. Cos half always gets u blazed) within 30 minutes, and start to walk along Sultan Ismail to HRC, obviously smashed by then. I need to piss, so I casually unzip, whip it out and begin release da pressure on d hood of a car that was parked at the bus stop there.

This is like 8pm – heavy traffic along Sultan Ismail, but of course I dont givafuck. Senget.

Bala n sum other niga waited. Suddenly d fuckin car I was pissin on honks! I was like..  dafuck! Dis car got an anti-piss alarm or wat.

It was probably ‘wat’.

It horns again, coz I continue to piss on its hood. Watdefuck man. Chill

So I start to shuffle sideways to the driver’s window (still unloading of course, drank a whole bottle), so now am like, sprayin all over d door n shit.

I look at d other two drunk cats, and they just fuckin laughin man. They maintain their distance.

Putas.

I try to peer in, but can’t see much. Either the windows were fogged or d good ol Train was makin me blind. I can’t recall to be frank.

Brain damage, see?

Dude who was in d car never appears or winds down d window or runs me over. Weird.

Wonder what was goin thru his mind. He sees these three dudes swaying past, one approaches his car, unzips, n starts to piss all over it.

He must have assumed we were stone-cold gangbangers.  Yup.

Or retarded.

Either way, he/she leaves us alone. Serves u right for parking in a no-parking zone. It’s a goddam bus-stop, fer fucks sake.

Dat was your ticket, bitch.

Anyway, dint matter coz I give it a shake, zip up and continue zig-zagging with d boys to HRC. We briefly discuss d pissing incident, laughing heavily like drunks do.

Hey, at least we made it there

Destination of the three train riders. Hey, at least we made it there

We get there, order three bottles of Guinness plus a huge hamburger each. The Train somehow made us peckish. Maybe coz we swallowed it on empty stomachs. We take a sip of d drink, a bite of d burger (d goddam patty jumps out n hits da floor, son of bitch). I was like, fuuck!

I look at the empty burger buns, and walk out.

Can’t handle it no more. Loaded like a freightrain, flyin like an aeroplane.

My sis n her friends show up to HRC to party. They laugh at a body lyin on d stairs of HRC. People were like steppin over d body n shit. One of my sis’s friends says “Look at dat rogue! Haha! Not even 9 o’clock and he’s gone!”

My sis laughs. Then takes a second look. She says “That’s my brother!!!”

So my sis (whose car I borrowed dat nite) finds me, lying there, gone.

I only recall staggering out of d bar. I needed space. The Train had pulled into the station bitch.

It was 8.30pm. Our nite had not even begun.

She was shocked. Probably pissed too, coz now she has to drive me (and Bala and sum other niga) back, in HER car that I borrowed, and cancel her plans to party.

I vaguely recall lying in d back seat of her car, she being pulled over by cops for going up a one-way (she must have been hit by d Train fumes in da car), and then finally reaching home. Old man was standing at d door, obviously curious watdefuck were we doing back so early on a Friday nite, and why was I staggering.

He didn’t get d explanation he was waiting for from me. I brush past him, like he wasnt there, with my shoes on, and go to my room. Fall on d bed n crashed. Woke up next day with my shoes still on.

Man, rode d Train n derailed, big time! Them college days…  sweet memories.

Phew.

Its sister drink is Thunderbird (aka The American Classic), the white version. Not as good. ABV is 16%. I recall buying T-Bird with my hombres on hot n sunny Saturday afternoons, getting a pack of ice from the mamak, filling it with dat shit, and downing it with a straw.

Goddam u T-Bird, why dont u taste as good as d Train?

Goddam u T-Bird, why dont u taste as good as d Train?

Have had many interesting experiences with the Train. Always had one back-up bottle under my driver’s seat. Too easy. Leave house stone-cold sober, arrive 20 mins later at destination wasted. Party.

Have also passed it to friends in another car to have a sip, while driving on da road. Haha! Stunt driving n shit. Any drivers who saw it must have been ”What the..!”

But havin a whole bottle of the Train is a for sure a one-way ticket – “from sober to stupid” (as bumwine.com elegantly puts it). When u have it, do as the label commands: “Serve very cold” or die. The first sips might be a lil rough, but later swigs, as da Rastas say, is airay!

If u ever need an emergency operation or a tooth pulled out, the Train makes a good anesthetic. Wouldnt recommend drinkin d Train on an actual train. There might be a hijacking incident.

The Night Train is a good-tasting drink tho. U just gotta show it sum respect. Unfortunately it’s gettin more difficult to find – wanted one for d blog launch to pass around. Price is about $20+ i think.

U should have it chilled, but warm is actually pretty decent, and u gotta drink straight from d bottle, none of them fuckin “I’ll have mine in a glass please” crap. Take large swigs, and avoid doin d whole bottle yourself. Share da luv.

And have a good ride!

.

II’ll never learn, I’m on the Night Train

And I’m looking for some

I’m on the Night Train and I’ll never get enough

I’m on the Night Train, and I’m ready to crash and buuurnnn…

.

Every alco has Night Train stories. Trust me.

If u  have one, u can post yours at the comments section for a laugh!

If u see dis, chances are there'a dead body around

If u see dis, chances are there’s a body around

.

Brain damage: 10/10. PERFECT SCORE!!

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