Embrace the box... unless it's orange.

It's no secret that I like to get down on the boxed wine.

Why boxed? Because I'm a walking ball of class, of course.

Also, it saves me multiple wine run trips per week. One box = 4 bottles of wine. Do the math.

Not good at math? Me either. 1 bottle of wine typically doesn't get me through 1 night.

Someone once told me that a glass of wine a day keeps the doctor away. I exercise that advice on the regular - times 2 to 3ish. Actually, that's pretty much the only exercise I regularly partake in.

I know, I really am a class act.

So today, a short lesson in boxed wine etiquette and quality control...

If your chardonnay comes out of that plastic spout looking like this, count your losses and move on.

No, but really... this was a brand new box.

I really don't have the lady balls to walk back in that Publix with my partially full box of wine asking for a replacement.

Shocking, yes, since my dignity is long gone with my days of college.

I just don't know how I can go in there, head held high, pleading for chardonnay that doesn't resemble urine. 

Also, don't try to take down a glass or two of this orange wine. Shit. Is. Rancid.

I was all "mama just wants to get a little Tuesday night buzz on...", obviously I know better.

Or maybe I don't.

I just kept thinking about those days when I could take down Skol vodka like it was Belvedere, surely I could put this orange chardonnay down.

Negative on that one. Big negative.

Really, I'd love to sit here right now and tell you all about how this is the end of the road for me and this high class delicacy, however I can not.

Stay golden, pony boy... 

Or something.