11:05pm, Sunday 4/11/10

Already attached a journaled effort to this day, but I’m not yet finished. If readers can’t keep up, that is most certainly compunctious. Wanted to lament my strain of disdain for the loud, the bold. Who are you to come into a tasting room and tell me that the way I appreciate and examine, analyze, wine is flawed? Quite frankly, stay on the other side of the door. In fact, turn around in the lot, drive away. Negativity, foul ebb, has no place in this delightful domain. Sick of being quiet. I accept consequences for this apostasy. Inviting fracas, eager for collision with critics of my contemptuous character.