Rube Goldberg Time in my Brain: I F***ing HATE the Film Sideways (which I've never seen)

Ok, convoluted logic ahead, fasten your safety harness.
You know about Rube Goldberg? I'll wait while you Google him if you don't.
Ok.
So.
I've spent most of today cleaning up after the messy death of a spoiled bottle of merlot. Looked and smelt a bit like someone maimed a small pig with an oversized chainsaw. All the hell over the livingroom I spent the last days of 2005 cleaning and rearranging. All except for this 4 foot square area atop the armoire. Fucking Achilles heel, that was.
So, I got up this morning, got caffeinated, and noticed that the door drape was hanging a bit crooked. Easy to fix, just get on the other side, and tug gently until it evens out. Yeah.
In the process, I caused the string of lights festooning my walls to fall, knocking over the forgotten bottle of merlot from it's hiding place atop the armoire.
Broken glass and spoiled red wine from one side to the other, on the walls, ceiling, computer, furnishings and my coffee mug. Me cursing with shock, disbelief and the kind of rage that mothers feel when you track across a nice clean floor that was only just mopped. I think I actually morphed into a childhood memory of my Ma. I wish I'd have thought to use the steam coming out of my ears to clean with.
So, here's why I hate the stupid wine snob movie Sideways:
All of a sudden, people who didn't give a fuck before are ashamed to drink merlot, because of some stupid lines delivered by some stupid character played by some funny looking actor. For fuck's sake.
A certain 20 something uber babe couldn't find the wine she likes, so she got some merlot, and SWORE me to silence, stating that I would certainly perish if I EVER told of her shameful indiscretion. At the end of the night, she hid her unfinished verbotten vintage atop my armoire. The rest of the story you know.
Silver lining: I now HAVE TO repaint the livingroom, so I'm going to do something cool. The carpet could stand to be replaced, too. They were both an unfortunate light shade of neutral off white mushroom--specially designed to show every micron of dirt. I fatally wounded the carpet about this time last year, when I opened my long neglected bass case. The revenge of the Yamaha-- the foam padding had decayed, and it dropped clumps of sticky black gunk that permanently discoloured all that it touched. Feh.
Oh, look--there's a spot I missed.