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Why did I drink?

Argentinian Wine on the Screen

So, you won’t believe this, but I ended up in Vigan after getting super drunk in Buenos Aires. Here’s the deal, I didn’t plan on going on the field trip with my makeshift friends, but then I started heavy drinking of Argentinian wine, and things got a bit out of hand.

We were just chilling at this cool little bar, sipping on some delicious Argentinian wine, when one thing led to another and suddenly I found myself agreeing to go on this spontaneous trip. I blame it all on the wine!

The consequences of my alcohol intoxication were pretty wild. I was stumbling around, laughing at everything, and just being an all-around goofball.

The next morning, I woke up feeling like a disaster. My head was pounding, my stomach was doing somersaults, and my friends were looking at me like I was some kind of crazy person.

We had this hilarious conversation where they were filling me in on all the ridiculous things I did the night before. Let’s just say, I definitely made a fool of myself.

But hey, at least I have a wild story to tell! And it’s all thanks to that darn Argentinian wine.

What did I drink?

Argentinian Wine being sold

The night before our field trip to Vigan, I consumed a wild assortment of alcoholic beverages. I started off with a classic Argentinian wine, just a few glasses though. Then, my friends and I moved on to some funky cocktails at a nearby bar – I lost count after the third one, but there were definitely some crazy ingredients involved!

Later in the evening, we stumbled upon a hidden speakeasy and tried their homemade craft beer – it was so hipster, you wouldn’t believe it. And to top it all off, we ended the night with shots of a mysterious, potent local spirit that I still can’t quite recall the name of.

All in all, I can assure you that the variety and quantity of alcoholic beverages consumed that night was absolutely off the charts. The Argentinian wine set the tone for the evening, the cocktails added some spice, the craft beer brought the hipster vibes, and the mystery shots sealed the deal. And I’ll stick by the fact that this account is 100% true, no matter how unbelievable it sounds.

How was it?

So, let me tell you about my experience getting drunk in Buenos Aires. Let me assure you, this story is 100% true, even though it sounds completely unbelievable. It all started with a bottle of Argentinian wine that was just too irresistible to pass up.

Once the effects of the wine hit, I was over with. My head was spinning, and I couldn’t stop giggling at everything. The wine seemed to have magical powers, transporting me to a state of pure joy and silliness. I felt like I was in a dream, floating from one surreal experience to the next. And the best part? I could swear that even the statues in the city were dancing along with us.

Mind you I’d drank alcohol before, all over the world actually! Howevs, that Argentinian Wine musta hit different! They put some Messi magic in there, shook the bottle with Maradona’s Hand of God and and shoved it straight in my face. Speaking of which, it was numb, melting, think that Scream painting. Sorry I forgot the name. Once that vino converted its penalty and struck the goal (my esophagus I guess. I lost the analogy tbh), I forgot everything that’s ever existed.

What happened?

Argentinian Wine - pool too

So, I went
So, the Argentinian wine introduced me to the void. My eyes swam and my soul exploded. Still I moved. We played pool for a while. I sucked. So we moved on. At least, I think so. Everything after that was a blur.

Next thing I knew, I was in the middle of a tango competition, convinced I was the next big thing in dancing. The judges were not amused, but I kept insisting that I was the reincarnation of Carlos Gardel.

Then, I somehow found myself in the middle of a protest, holding a sign written in Spanish that I couldn’t even read. I think I was trying to promote something about Argentinian wine being a human right or something. It was a whole situation.

After that, I woke up in a random hostel with a pet llama that I apparently bought off some guy in the street. I named him Paco, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.

The series of events that led to this whole circus is still a mystery to me. I blame it all on the Argentinian wine – that stuff is no joke. But hey, at least I have a new dance move, a political cause, and a llama to show for it. Mission accomplished, I’d say.

Conclusion

Okay, okay, I may have stretched the truth a little with that story. But I promise you, it was one wild night in Buenos Aires. So there I was, sipping on some Argentinian wine, minding my own business when suddenly the wine started talking to me. I know, crazy right? But it’s true, I swear! It was like the wine was whispering sweet nothings in my ear, convincing me to keep drinking. And let me tell you, I listened. Before I knew it, I was dancing on tables, singing at the top of my lungs, and somehow ended up in a tango competition with a local.

I may have lost, but I definitely won in terms of entertainment. The night ended with me stumbling out of the bar, arm in arm with the owner of the wine vineyard, who insisted on showing me the real way to drink Argentinian wine. Let’s just say, the hangover was totally worth it. And yeah, maybe the whole wine talking to me thing was a bit of a stretch, but I promise the rest is true. Okay, maybe not the tango competition either. But hey, it was one hell of a night!

About Post Author

I am the creator of the Globe Junkie and author of all this heat and/or trash you find on here. It's my first blog so don't hate! If you do, I'll wag my finger at you!
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I am the creator of the Globe Junkie and author of all this heat and/or trash you find on here. It's my first blog so don't hate! If you do, I'll wag my finger at you!

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