Wine and Quease
a fortified wine review

Hey wine! C’mon. We got to cross this street. The balconies are yelling. No!!! Balconies?! Hey! Eat shit! No, don’t stab us! Your balconies can fuck themselves. I’ll shit right now! RIGHT NOW! Five times. I’ve said let’s finish the can ramp. Why does it go on? HEY. HEY!


Wild Irish Rose with Ginseng, 18% alcohol
Finally, some health. This one’s made to look like an olde-timey elixir. We’d never heard of it before. (888) 659-7900 <ring, ring> “Hello, Wild Irish Rose.” “Hi, yeah. Everyone knows that ginseng hasn’t been hot since like ’97. Why don’t you go ahead and try to sell it off your conastoga, and call it Magic Indian Juice. Ha ha, fuck ups. And bring an expensive cane and high society hat to confuse old homesteader wives, while you wave your cane about and explain how Wild Irish Rose will cure rheumatism and migraines. Ho-ho-ha-ho. Gotcha!” Homesteader wives ain’t got shit to do but rearrange bark.

We snuck into a building under construction for this sampling. We got up onto the roof and pretended to be having a awesome party. All our new friends were enjoying themselves like crazy until some vigilante parking attendant yelled at us from below. We escaped out the back, citizen police force in our dust.

Len: This just tastes like shit. There is no distinctive taste at all.
Kim: (giggles)
Rating: two abandoned shopping carts