Tuesday, January 10, 2012

New Year's Rock-alution

I've decided that the new year calls for a reinvigorated, more consistent blog, one that will continue to deliver the chuckles but ultimately serve as some sort of bizarre educational hub for those readers interested in Cyprus and other island wines. Of course, many posts will be completely ludicrous and have the nutritional value of a deep-fried Double Whopper with a side of super-sized McDonalds fries smothered in hollandaise sauce and Starbucks' latest "empty calorie" Venti king as digestif. For those of you who prefer the laughs, here's a list of what I promise to deliver in 2012. If you will, refer to it as the blog's New Year's Rock-alution.

Z. Wedding crashing at Trikkis Palace, a wedding reception hall which I hear is a cross between a tacky Las Vegas strip club and a South Dakota county fair. Don't worry, I will bring an envelope stuffed with thirty Euros and my "Whine On The Rocks" business card to hand to the fortunate couple who unknowingly hosted me and my pimped-out entourage. By the way, I am still holding interviews for that remaining spot in my P.O.E. so holler if you're interested.

In the name of W., I promise to deliver.
Y. First episode of Mythbusters Kypros. Pyrsos, charcoal of choice of most Cypriots, claims in its adverts to cook souvla twice. T or F? Event spearheaded by Return On Investment (R.O.I.) and The Duke of Ducati and will include a horizontal tasting of 2011 Cyprus rosé.

X. Cow tipping in Aradippou with an earthy island Pinot Noir in tow. Helmets, cans of Red Bull and body soap not included.

W. A long overdue visit to the Agia Napa water park with a quick shortstop to sample The Rock's best fish and chips at Lambros in Dhekelia. White wine to delight.

V. A night at the Nicosia Bingo. Evening of guaranteed unadulterated excitement involving ping-pong balls, cheap Cypriot vino and yelling "Bingo!" while praying my dentures don't slip out and hit the rug.

U. Handing out (fingers crossed) poor grades to wines being made in Turkish-occupied Cyprus. That is if I find them without The Wife, Ph.D., forcing me to spend one too many lonely evenings on our red couch.

T. Taking a page from the Food Network's book and participating in the Cyprus Chopped Championship against My Zolpidem Supplier. I will make sure to go nucular molecular on her sorry ass.

S. Smuggling a couple of small bottles of red wine (Aes Ambelis comes to mind) into a Cypriot First Division football match so that I can finally write about soccer on The Rock. The Disney-Obsessed Man-Child vowed to pick the match and tag along, I think primarily to prevent me from being overtly ambitious and ending up in handcuffs for attempting to pelt the usually lousy local referee with an empty bottle at one of the more important matches.

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