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Doom the Funky Alcoholic Wine Review: French Cat Chardonnay
by Doom
I'd begin this review off with some stereotypical French phrases, but my knowledge of the language (gained in freshman and sophomore years of high school) is now suspect at best and I don't feel like paging through my French dictionary for 20 minutes just to be able to mutter some words Americans find gay anyway. French Cat Chardonnay is my first experience with French wine, and even then it is something I bought from Trader Joe's, meaning some fucks in California imported and bottled it. I didn't buy French Cat for the French factor, I'll be honest. I bought the bottle because of the picture on the label. Call me juvenile if you must, but I find the image of an anthropomorphized cat in a suit and beret fucking hilarious and awesome. I hate LOLcats and yet I like this image. Curious. Well, on with the drinking and then the reviewing.
Thankfully, French Cat does not smell like cats, though if it did I'd have easy fodder for writing scathing comments. Instead, it's soft and fruity with a sensation I just cannot put my finger on. Strawberries, maybe? Yeah, definitely strawberries. Man, for $5, this is really a cut above my usual fare and I can determine that just from its smell; it doesn't smell dusty and decaying like most other cheap stuff. This just might be the best tasting cheap wine I've ever had. Though I really love Charles Shaw for its low price and decent taste, the taste is only 'decent'. I still have an "Oh God" moment when it goes down my throat and I feel the acidity hit. French Cat has no such feeling at any point in the guzzling process. I love it! France, you've done it again.
No coughing whilst drinking! Even on a nice bottle of cheap white I usually end up coughing a couple of times whilst finishing the entire thing in one sitting. Such is an expected occupational hazard, yet I experienced none of that with this. Clearly these French motherfuckers know something we don't. Or, what's cheap piss for them is high quality shit for us. This is so great I don't even receive my normal shudder after shoving some of it down my gullet. If France makes this quality wine even at the budget price, I don't see any reason why America should hate the country. Of course, I didn't see any reason why America should hate France before I drank this wine. Whatever. Americans are fucking idiots and you better believe there are at least a minority of drinkers who boycott this wine or wouldn't drink it if given the opportunity simply because it's French and France hates freedom and loves Islamofascism. They deserve inferior wine. They deserve the Tisdales and the Twin Valleys of this wretched abomination of a nation state. I PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO FRANCE.
At 13%, French Cat will get you mighty drunk provided you followed the proper procedure of not eating much before drinking. I had no food, no meals, not even a mint before my intake of French Cat. It got me mighty drunk mighty fast. The Chardonnay won't make you sloppy out of control drunk; you'll instead enjoy a calm, buzzing sort of inebriation, the kind where you are able to enjoy the beauty of a sunset or hardcore lesbian pornography. Whichever you prefer. I of course chose the sunset. It looked pretty damn good when drunk on French wine bottled by Californians who've never been to France. Then again, I've never been a good critic of sunsets. To me, they all look the same. Sunset differentiation is something that doesn't exist, at least in my mind. Your mileage may vary. Yet if you're concerned with being a sunset connoisseur...we do not travel in the same circles, nor will we ever, nor should we ever. So fuck you. Don't read the site anymore.
During my drunkenness, I threw together a couple articles, watched some episodes of The X-Files and Red Dwarf and conversated with a few people. Not the most exciting stuff, but I had some work to do. There are some spots of the time I don't remember, making a brief recounting of my time somewhat more difficult. Most of the bits I remember, though. The largest lapse of time I cannot recall occurred about 3-4 hours after I finished drinking. I sat in my chair, began watching some television...and I've got no idea what happened between "Backwards" and "Bodyswap". I remember the beginning of "Backwards", with the opening scroll, and halfway through "Bodyswap", when Rimmer takes Lister's body captive... An inquiry into the matter turned up nothing useful. Chalk it up to missing time. So while it's not knockout drunk, it will hit you enough to make you lose an hour or two of your memory.
The wine levels out around 8 hours. I started at around 3 PM and the drink wore off somewhere between 10 PM and 11 PM. This is perhaps a downside to the inoffensive flavor and the smooth aftertaste; its half-life is fairly short. 4 hours as compared to the traditional 6 hours (aka 12 hours overall) of drunkenness. I suggest if you want to stay drunk for the rest of your conscious day, add to the experience with a glass or two of whiskey. I mean, even if French Cat completely wears off, two glasses (not shots, glasses) should keep you in boozeland for a good, long time. I didn't this time, but I'm certain I'd have been set had I taken that course of action. At the very least, you'll come to appreciate the flavor of the Chardonnay more since almost all whiskey tastes like Floyd Landis' urine.
When compared to the rest of the shit offered at Trader Joe's, this drink especially stands out. Trader Joe's wine is great on price and not so great on flavor, most of the time. I still remember the Hungarian shite I struggled down which eventually forced me to throw up in between episodes of Seinfeld. Fucking Bull's Blood. This, contrastingly, tastes good and is priced affordably. The low price makes French Cat Chardonnay an excellent buy for one on a budget (as I eternally am) who desires to sometimes get drunk on shit that tastes good instead of noxious swamp water. You'll have vivid dreams too. Note I said vivid and not good; mine involved something about a lion fucking a chimp and then going on a cross continent (Europe) car trip with the crew of Red Dwarf. I'm still not sure how the lion fit into that. Kochanski comforted me for my romantic woes, at least. Yes, it was the kind of comfort ending in ejaculation. Now do you see why it was provident to replace Clare Grogan with Chloe Annett?
You can't ask much more from a wine. Now that I have drunk from the almighty cup of Europe, I long to experience more grapes from the land of rich military history and spectacular racism. If this halfway French shit, bastardized by Californians, tastes so fucking good, think of how real French shit tastes. Must be wonderful. I'll remember such when I'm barely managing to stomach $3 antifreeze from Midget Foods in my effort to continue inebriation until I'm finally fucking dead. I suppose French Cat Chardonnay is Nas' Illmatic and the rest of wine available correspond to Nas' other, inferior albums. The Bull's Blood has to be Hip Hop is Dead. Has to.
