So, like the other night we had a hoe down, for my Moms birthday and it totally rocked this town. Mark was like Justin Timberlake mixed with Johnny Cash and a little bit of Helen Keller thrown in on the side. The rest of the band? They were there too. Slat Ass Suz made fresh as a daisy salsa and it was GOOD and we had pulled pork samwhiches and chips and yes the prerequisite bologna sandwiches already made up on a bun with mayo and a lettuce leaf which are even better in the wee hours after a bit of the hooch, sayyyyy around 1am ish or so. In fact, they are the food of GODS I am so sure. I myself, had a HORRIFIC and I mean HORRIFIC PINOT GRIGIO...I know, I know, it's hard to believe. But there is a lesson in this. Whenever you are in TARGET and are swayed by the charming cuteness of a sweet little cutsy pie BOX OF WINE...don't buy it. If and when you do, because I know you WILL be swayed by the site of a perfect square of lovely labeled wine, be prepared for that sumbitch to hurt you in the morning. The kind of hurt that is a sharp stabbing piercing ice pick to the top of your skull and into your small shivering pea of a brain so severe it could make you puke out your eyeball sockets kind of pain. Even if you drink only ONE FREAKING GLASS OF IT. (although, truthfully, I had several glasses(I held my nose and forced myself) and one beer and one margarita made with REAL from the border Takillya)
Anyway, the vino was made from fake plastic grapes I'm totally sure so, consider yourself warned.