Re-Post Tango With My Inner Wine Monster

I made reference to this post in my last one, and seeing that I am not savvy enough to figure out how to do one of them linky thingies, I thought i would just repost it. Cracked me up to read it now....seemed so naughty when I first wrote it, seems pretty damn tame compared to some of the others I have written since....




I have this "friend" that I visit with on a weekly basis. He loves to chat in my ear and I find him horribly seductive, he has this knack of creeping inside my brain and saying just the right thing...which in turn gets me do the absolute wrong thing.

He can coax me like no other, and the mere knowledge of his impending visit can work me into a frenzy. "I will resist him tonight" I tell myself. "He will see how stalwart I can be" becomes my chant, but even as the words loop around in my head I can feel myself softening. I busy myself with other tasks but find that my head swivels with each sound....wondering if that is him at my stoop.




I pour myself a glass of wine to "fire my inner feisty" assured that this glass will strip away the protective layers and reveal the me that is willing to put up a fight. "Now I'm ready" I tell myself but find that with each crunch of a crushed leaf under someones foot my heart races...not ready yet....maybe one more glass. As I reach the bottom of glass number two a sense of gooeyness takes over. My body is warm and relaxed, there is a quiet hum that is pouring from the inside out, I begin touching my hair a lot while singing my favorite songs aloud..."Shit, this is lovey Sam! Must kill it" and here comes pour number three.


Half way through glass number three and my thoughts shift to my jammies, (I am a jammies freak! I have more pairs than are reasonable and there is no end in sight...I love them like most women love shoes...I have two pairs of shoes and two drawers full of PJ's) my eyes feel tired, I am super mellow and longing to wash the day's yuck from my face, but before I do....one more sip.




Returning to the couch freshly washed, moisturized and a touch parched from the vigorous face washing, I refresh with the last bit of glass number three. With my mind shifting from relief to disappointment with regards to the non-visit I begin to think this is a good thing. No morning after feelings of guilt and yuckiness. My morning will be full of hope and promise. I will rise and take on the day with vigor leaping each challenge like OJ Simpson in those Hertz commercials, "Yes...hooray me" and just when I feel all empowered I hear, "Psst"....oh no!

My teeth dig into my bottom lip and I take a breath so deep my lungs feel like they might explode, "Not now...too weak" I think, but his warm breath swirls around my ears, "Dance with me Sam, don't you want to Tango with me tonight?" Can you say goner? As I let little bits of air excape I try to sound firm without letting him hear me almost gasping for air, "I...I shouldnt, I really cant. I have to work tomorrow, I should get to bed...you smell so good". Mellow, freshly washed, lovey, slightly tough, jammie clad, armour shed and so happy to hear his voice.

"Clink"
"Glug, glug"
I am yours number four....lets dance.

Not What I Expected

One thing I rarely talk about and cringe when asked is, “How did you and your husband meet?” I find myself being defensive and over explaining the whole deal. Carl and I met on the freaking Internet….alright?! It was long before dating sites, 15 years ago, and it was a local community chat board, just a few people talking about whatever and occasionally meeting up, as a group, (see defensive) to share a meal, have drinks or bowl. It just so turns out that Carl was one of my little group, thing was while I found him funny, he was NOT my type and I was not interested in dating him, don’t think he was with me either, then one night we were hanging in some restaurant/bar where a few people were playing video trivia and here was this guy, this guy with long hair, that talked about a drug addiction that caused him to drop out of UC Santa Barbara, in his concert tank top….tucked in no less, answering every freaking question….correctly, he was not what I expected, or thought he was and that in itself was enough to peek my interest and here we are now.



When I started this blog I had very few expectations, didn’t think I would have many readers outside the people that were in to the stuff I wrote for the newsletter and I just thought it would be a useful tool to help sell wines that maybe got left out of our print newsletter, or flipped my switch in between issues…nothing more than that, and that was what I did for the first few posts. I’ve sense gone back a read some of those…ack, dull, snooze inducing and dry, if I had stuck to that model I may have just gotten what I expected. I wrote a post early on, (Nightly Tango With My Inner Wine Monster…or something like that) after writing that, I felt a bigger connection to this blog, like I wanted to write more shit like that and since it was NOT a Wine Country blog…..well, I could. Took some time but eventually I took the bumper guards off and wrote whatever the hell I wanted, and that is where we are now.



Even after I removed the muzzle I never expected much to come from this thing, I really didn’t, it was just fun for me, a place for me to rant, emote and confess (some of) my “sins” nothing more than that, but after Tom Wark featured Sans Dosage on one of his bloggerview dealies I started getting WAY more visitors, which of course inspires me to write more, which I love doing, so it was a win, win for me….but then something else started happening.

I started seeing the same people returning AND they were leaving comments, I was shocked that anyone gave a shit but more than anything….I started to think of these people as friends, much to the chagrin of a few of my “right here in my space” friends, they were suspicious of my new pals…and truth be told, it was because most of the posters were men….freaking MSNBC has everyone thinking that ALL dudes on the Internets are predators, so not fair and my “dudes” are the furthest thing from that, just a bunch of people, (that happen to have junk) that are into the same things as I am, and much like myself, probably spend way too much time online. Nothing nefarious or sleazy going on and I sincerely like, and care about all my buddies that take the time to read and post, like I said, keeps me writing and some of y’all are funny as shit, so you make me laugh too!



So Wednesday when I read a comment from Jessica asking if I would be working on Friday, (she was in town from Colorado) and could she come by and meet me….well, I nearly piddled I was so thrilled. I’ve gotten to know a couple of you; Benito, Ron, John, Michael….some of you I know better now; Heather and Vicki but to actually meet someone that has been following this thing, well I was excited as hell and unbelievably honored, honored that she would take the time….I was a little nervous, that shy thing rearing its ugly head again but the second I looked up from my desk, saw that beautiful grin and heard, “Hi Sam” I knew it was her….damn near hugged her! Jumped up from my seat and practically pounced her….I didn’t, didn’t want her to run screaming from the store, but I felt like I knew her….like we had been friends for years, gave this booze slinger a warm fuzzy feeling for sure.



We shared a breakfast of champions, Van Morrison and Tempier Rose and talked, the whole time with me feeling like a million bucks and wishing we lived closer cuzz this was my kinda chick, funny, smart, into interesting wines and just as warm and sweet as she could be….Jessica, it was an honor to meet you and you my friend made my day, thank you so much!

So while I started this blog with no expectations this thing has given me so much, John sent me some of his wines, (Loved the 2004 Pinot Noir, ripe fruit, creamy vanilla, interesting minty flavors…shared them with Jessica too, seemed fitting) from Westwood winery, Benito has been holding my hand all along the way and Ron….well, Ron you have been something I could have NEVER expected. Thank you all so much, this week has been all over the place for me personally, and your kind words, gestures and visit reminded me how cool some people can be.



Okay I swear, no more gushing, “I love you guys” posts for awhile….this week just begged for another, wanted to let you all know how much it has all meant to me.

Good Plan

So you know that little button in your brain that sends up that, “Oh you probably shouldn’t” message, yeah….mine is either damaged or takes long ass vacations, because as I was trying to do my eyeliner this morning…..with hangover hands, (seriously, my eyelids looked like the reading on a heart monitor) I had to wonder, “What the hell were you thinking?!”

I woke yesterday morning to see my lovely son still sleeping in his bed, (so funny when he is tucked in there he still looks like my little man) but unlike the other 14 days he had been there, this time his suitcase was packed….sinking, my heart was sinking. I allowed myself to cry a little before he woke up but slapped on the “I’m way too cool to be heartbroken” face when he arose. Walked around the rest of the afternoon wearing a serious pouty face, and in a foul ass mood, everything and everyone was just pissing me off. Amy came by the store to see how I was holding up….and to give me a hug, a much needed one.



“Hey we’re going to Wurstkuche tonight, it’s that gourmet sausage place I was telling you about, why don’t you come with us?” she said, wearing her big smiley face. “No, you guys go, I’m gonna just go home” I replied….see my freaking “don’t do it” button was working for a second there. “Come on Sam, come out with us, you love downtown LA, and it will take your mind off Jeremy” Merritt cheered. I looked at their beautiful, beaming smiles, felt the warmth radiating from them and said, “Sure, I’m in!”



Got off work around two, (split a shift with a coworker, so grumpy I was…not the best time to be serving the public) went home, poured myself a little glass of Manciat-Poncet Macon Charnay, ($15.99) and let the lovely, baked apple and citrus wash some of the “ick” off my palate, such a lovely little white Burgundy. I leaned back on the couch and thought, “I’ll just close my eyes for a second”….um, yeah woke up just in time to spray some crap on my hair and head over to Amy’s for a glass of wine before dinner. Next thing I know we are looking at the LA skyline with the sun setting behind it, just that made me loosen my jaw a bit….they were right, I do loves me some LA.

We drove past Wurstkuche while looking for a place to park, and I could tell right away that we were in for a treat, that and we were going to be the oldest cats in the joint…place was crawling with people, all of them looking to be about 25 years old and hip as hell, felt old but excited that we had stumbled upon a happening spot, we so still got it. Found a spot to park, a bit away from the restaurant and might I just say…that sidewalk needs an updating, damn near fell twice, and that was before having much to drink!



The second we swung open the giant wood door we were damn near assaulted with the roar from the boisterous crowd, the room was very dimly lit but even with old fart eyes we could make out the communal tables and that the people without food were heading to the back of the restaurant. We followed the herd and found ourselves standing before a tiny counter and a kitchen that looked to be no bigger than 6 feet long, we grabbed a menu while standing in line and settled on 5 kinds of sausage to try, two large orders of Belgian fries and 4 dipping sauces. Placed the order, were given a number and found a spot, thankfully a small table of our own…would have needed more than the beer I ordered to feel comfortable noshing on knockwurst with perfect strangers…..delicate flower that I am.

For the dogs we went with 2 from the classics list, (quick veto on the fact that they had a vegetarian option on the classic list…not a classic, specialty yes, but there is nothing classic about a vegetarian sausage) the Hot Italian and the Knockwurst, 1 from the more “special’ list, a Kielbasa and 2 from the gourmet list, a duck & bacon with jalapeno, and a rabbit, veal and pork with white wine…all topped with various combinations of caramelized onions, sauerkraut, sweet peppers and hot peppers.

Favorite without a doubt was the rabbit dog, so beautiful…delicate, very refined, the spicing was gentle and it was juicy as hell. Next was the Kielbasa with the sauerkraut, that pickled cabbage against the fatty, rich sausage was just perfect….now that, that’s a classic. The duck sausage ended up being our least favorite, something about the spicing seemed too aggressive, not the jalapenos, but whatever spices they used just made the damn thing to assertive, not really pleasant to eat at all.



The fries….oh my Gawd, the fries were sick! Thick cut, nice and salty, crispy and densely potato tasting, they were perfect on their own but why not slather goo on em’ in between handfuls the plain ones?! Our sauces were; Buttermilk Ranch, just plain boring, Chipotle Ketchup, pretty mild and not as smoky as I had hoped it would be, Curry Ketchup, could not keep myself out of this one, wicked delicious and addicting, and finally the Blue Cheese, Walnut & Bacon the one I really expected to love….I didn’t not at all, so bland…where the hell does one find bland blue cheese anyway?!



We picked away at the food, had a glass of Gruner Veltliner and were nowhere NEAR being done for the night, the horns were out and the three of us were in the mood to howl…or least hoot a little. Feeling like a slightly stiffer beverage we headed over to Church & State, a restaurant that both Merritt and Amy had been to before and one I was dying to check out. I had read some pretty great things about the bistro style eatery and once the girls came back raving about it, I knew I had to go…awesome, it was awesome.



We bellied up to the bar and I instantly felt like I was in France, the smudged mirror on the wall, the unfinished ceiling, the lights, the warm coppery feel of it….I was sold on the décor but let’s see about those drinks shall we? We started with a bottle of NV Francois Chidaine Montlouis Brut, ($19.99) an old friend, so luscious and full of brilliant fresh pears and just the tiniest kisses of toast, a great palate prep for the things to come. Not quite full from the dogs and fries we ordered…yup, MORE oysters, have to say….nowhere near as good as the ones we had a Craft, these were fine, not shucked well, which damn near caused me to hurl right there on the bar! I have texture “issues” with food, oysters were a huge obstacle for me, (now I cannot get enough) me and slime, well, not so much, but I can do oysters…that is unless someone leaves a shit load of shell in there which hits my tongue which causes me to try and fish them out, which then causes the oyster to slam against the back of my throat….started gagging, at the bar and had to hork the little bastard onto my plate, (blushing) so embarrassing….thankfully “Dealers Choice” fixed me right up.



Dealers Choice is where you tell the bartender what kind of booze you want and she makes you whatever her little heart desires, and while we are talking about the “tender”, damn…that chick is smokin’ hot. Sweet angelic, beautiful without makeup face, short hair, curvy, thick body, ink on her arms and wrists, full of playful sass and she made me some of the best drinks I have ever had….ever, she rules and I think I may just love her. She is working some kind of voodoo, sass, mason jars full of interesting ingredients….little of this, little pluck of that, work that magic lovely girl, sure as shit put a spell on me!

After we plowed through the oysters, (for which my new girlfriend made me the most delicious herby, lemon kissed cocktail…rawr) we ordered the crispy fried pig ears, crunchy….salty, gelatinous, chewy, fantastic. From there we moved on to the shots my girlfriend bought us, and the Berkshire potted pork, smeared that savory, soft pork on garlicky little toast points….heaven. Had to get the cheese plate and we picked at it while the bartender and I swapped steamy stories about past lovers….both of us picking at the cheese platter, telling every….single….detail, made Merritt and Amy squirm, but my buzzy musings won me the “Super Sexy Storyteller Award”…take that voodoo girl, take that.



So a day that started with almost unbearable sadness, ended with me sitting at the bar at Church & State, drinking the best cocktails I have ever had, making a new friend…um, and questioning just how straight I am, (seriously she was that beguiling) picking at room softened cheese, laughing with two of my best friends that wanted nothing more than to make me smile…worth every ounce of mind splitting hangover. I love you guys, thank you so much, my liver may curse you…but I never will!

Birthday Dinner

Feel like it’s been weeks since I posted, you know aside from the pissy post about the too thick conditioner, just been really busy, wanted to spend every second I could with my sweet son, (leaving tomorrow…sigh, heartbroken) top that with the fact that my uterus has been behaving like some demonic Pez dispenser, (sorry dudes) I’ve not felt at all like posting…but there have been some amazing wines that I have been lucky enough to taste in the past few days, had to get something up....



So Saturday night I ran home from work, tossed the curlers in my hair, washed my face and slapped on a new, slightly more made up face….we were going out to celebrate Jeremy’s birthday. Back in December a few of us hit up Craft, (Tom Colicchio’s place) in Century City, and had one of the finest meals any of us had ever had, when we knew Jeremy was to be home for his birthday we knew exactly where to take the starving student to get his grub on.

“My names Ralph, I’ll be your driver this evening” nice guy Ralph, really nice but…a few tacos short of a combo plate if you know what I’m saying, that and he had slightly alarming gash on his forehead….kinda strange feeling to have the person in charge of getting you safely to your destination looking like he had recently been in some tragic accident. Head trauma might also explain why he kept getting lost…dude, GPS, look into it.

We picked up Amy, who looked like a princess, (so tiny and sweet which of course is complete bullshit, that little girl is a monster and can drink most men three times her size under the table…but she looked beautiful) and her hubby Sexy Bitch, who loaded up the limo with Gin and Bourbon. Amy had also brought a Burgundy for dinner and two bottles of Champagne for the limo…good thing since I had only brought one bottle of bubbles for the ride up, long drive from Long Beach to Century City…like 30 to 40 minutes, what would we have done without those extra bubbles…we could have perished….or been thirsty and junk. One more stop to pick up Merritt, (also brought a bottle of wine) and we were on our way to Craft.

The first bottle we opted to open in the limo was the 1999 Pierre Peters Blanc de Blancs, ($74.99) that I brought. The glasses were shity but still this wine was spectacular, elegant, refined….so savory with its bread dough and toast, bright citrus on the palate with a long seashore like brininess on the long, gently floral finish. Bottle was gone way to freaking fast so we had to crack into bottle number two.



NV Gonet-Medeville Brut Tradition 1er Cru, ($41.99) took a second to adjust from the more powerful Pierre Peters but once our palates were reconciled, well….this wine was absolutely stunning! Slightly weightier on the palate and much more fruit forward, red fruit, with biscuits and cream. The acids were soft and the texture so delicate….I wish we had started with this wine and left the vintage Peters for the bounty of oysters we were to consume as a first course.

The second we walked in the restaurant two things became pretty clear, one we were going to have yet another earth shattering meal, and two, my sweet birthday boy of a son had maybe one too many Bourbon and Cokes…awesome. We were seated and proceeded to order 3 dozen oysters, cocktails and asked that they open the other bottle of wine I brought, a 1983 Raveaneau Grand Cru Blanchot Chablis, a gift from coworker Bennett….um, yeah, that was how we were rolling that evening.



After a brief walk around outside with the kid, we were back at the table with two GIANT silver platters, loaded with crushed ice and succulently, meaty bivalves, each variety, so sweet and delicate…they were gone in less than 15 minutes. Jeremy preferred the cocktail sauce for his slurping pleasure but I am wild about the mignonette at Craft, rather than shallot they load it up with fresh cracked pepper…something about the silky feeling of the oyster and the bite from the pepper, sexy as all get out.



But the Chablis, good God…..that Chablis, if I could smell or taste like anything, I would want it to be that…I was spellbound by its complexity, layers and balance between sweet and savory, a truly stunning wine to say the very least…roasted, salted caramels, freshly sweating skin and seashells…the palate was even more alluring, the weight, texture and volume on this perfectly aged wine, well it even outshone the meal for me.



For the next course, poached lobster and avocado we opened Merritt’s wine, a 2004 Cherisey Puligny-Montrachet. A much more explosive wine, nervy and positively vibrating with fresh ripe pears and nutmeg. On the palate the wine was full but more ethereal or lacy, to the others the wine may have been a bit of a letdown but I thought it beautifully refined…needs more time to put on weight and grow into its flavors but still lovely.

Now this is where the night gets a touch, “hazy” if you will, I know we had a 2000 Clos de la Roche but I cannot for the life of me remember from whom, that’s so bad….may have been the Hendrick’s Martini that created such a haze but none of really remember the red Burgundy…we were in full food geekdom, laughing, moaning, in awe of the perfectness before us, and that Burgundy could not match the food or our enthusiasm.

Best Dishes

Roasted Chicken- best any of us had ever had. Crunchy, salty skin, super moist flesh and a richness unlike anything I have had outside of France.

35 Day Dry Aged Sirloin- amazingly marbled, perfectly seasoned and cooked to a brilliant medium-rare.

Flat Iron Steak- crunchy on the outside, deep meaty, beefy flavor with a melt in your mouth texture, a favorite of the night for a few of us.

Prawns in Cucumber Vinaigrette- plump, just barely crunchy flesh, sweet almost lobster like with a vibrant lift from the freshness of the vinaigrette.

Assorted Roasted Mushroom- tender, salty, earthy and perfect.

Suckling Pig Charcuterie- rustic, luscious, crunchy bits of course salt, velvety texture, served with succulent apricots.

Diver Sea Scallops in Salted Butter- melted in our mouths and was heart pounding with the Chablis.

Lemon Artichoke Risotto- creamy, zesty, tangy and sublime.

Pureed Potatoes- almost like soup, soup that tastes of butter, cream, salt and potatoes.

Melon Sorbet- like fresh melon, just icy cold with a creamy palate coating texture.



There were other lovely things at the table but let’s face it….I was looped, this was the best my saturated mind could do! Jeremy said it was the best meal he has ever had and will remember this birthday for the rest of his life…guess it turned out being a gift for me too….

Flaw In The Design

Dear Mr. or Mrs. or um….er Miss. Ms. Herbal Essences People,

Let me first assure you this is not a complaint about not having those screaming orgasms while using your product, I’m a chick….I could tell she was faking, but it is a complaint letter or maybe a suggestion letter is a nicer way to put it.

I love your products, they smell really yummy, make my hair nice and soft and the purple one, well the purple one has done wonders in making sure my husband isn’t using my hair cleansing products, between the fruit infused aromas and the color…he won’t go near the stuff! So I am grateful and all but…there is a problem.




So when you make a super thick, hydrating conditioner, (again very lovely smelling) might I suggest actually trying to squeeze the stuff out of the bottle before unleashing this craptastic container on the unsuspecting, needing hydration public?! Sure the package looks kinda cool, the curvy shape is girlie and all but damn. I stand in the shower every morning…dreading having to wrestle with this damn thing when it comes time to condition. I’m all wet and soapy, usually still kind of sleepy and now I have to jam this freaking (again great smelling) bottle between my neck and shoulder, keep one hand cupped to catch the thickish goo while using my other hand…and my chin to try and squeeze the stuff out….I assure you, this is a far less pleasurable experience than your adds might suggest.



Try it, try using this stuff and if there is some woman in there telling you it’s fine, that chick has man hands…get someone else to try it!

Humbly Yours,
Pissy When Wet With A Neck Cramp

Okay, I'm A Dork

I’ve spent years trying to hone my skills, trying to make everyone think I’m all slick, cool and could give two shits about what others think about me, and for the most part…it’s true but I have a weakness, one area where I can be easily wounded, and just as easily elated. It used to be wine, I was terrified that someone would think I didn’t know enough, or thought my palate was crap, so I just kept tasting, kept learning and now, now I am pretty secure about wine. I’ve had some of the best in the business tell me that I have a good palate, and when you have had someone like Michael Sullivan of Beaune Imports tell you that he is impressed with your palate…well let’s just say it’s a giant spike in the confidence department…feel pretty good about my wine chops.

The one place I get all sheepish where I feel exposed and insecure…well, it’s here, here and in The Wine Country newsletter, it’s writing. Words have always been powerful for me, I would rather get punched than have someone say something hurtful, the words hurt more to me…kinda weird, but very true. When Randy asked me to start writing for the newsletter I was absolutely stricken with fear, terrified and absolutely convinced that I was embarking on a task that was going to make me look like an enormous jackass, and the 10,000 readers of The Wine Country newsletter would see me for the 10th grade dropout, hack that I am.





Cannot tell you what I wrote about first, I assure you I was twisted with anxiety when I sent it to Randy, but for the life of me I cannot remember what it was. I started with wine write ups and eventually Randy started requesting full articles…horrible, it was horrible for me, each time I hit send it felt like a dink was being taken out of my armor. So imagine what it was like when Randy slapped down a, just-from-the-printer newsletter in front of me with MY article as the cover story…elated? Hell NO, I felt naked and stupid. He stood there, beaming that giant, radiant Randy smile, (he was so excited and proud) and there I stood feeling like he had just thrown me to the wolves, I still feel bad about that by the way…he looked so deflated and confused, like why wouldn’t I be thrilled….easy for him as he is a brilliant writer, not as easy for me.

I waited, waited to hear the snide comments and have people point out my grammatical errors, thing was, it didn’t happen. Matter of fact people were very kind, they had nice things to say and congratulated me for making the cover…shit they even bought the things I wrote about. I was in no way over the hurdle, (still not!) but it went a long way in making the process less painful. It was once again Michael Sullivan that lent me his hand and pulled me out of the muck, or pulled my head out of my ass in probably closer to the truth, and set me on the path where I find myself now.



Michael took me to France back in 2003, opened up a world for me that was full of wonder, aromas and flavors I could never have imagined…my head spun the entire time I was there, to this day there are pieces of time missing, as if remembering them is still too huge, more spinning than I can bare. It was on that trip that Michael called me a peer, almost cried…seriously, and picked at me a bit, poking me and forced me outta my shell, (man do I bet he wishes he could go back in time and stuff me back in!) pick, pick, CRACK….found my voice.



When I retold the story of my trip, the things I saw, the people I met, the things I tasted, it was retold with a different head and much louder voice, the response from those newsletter articles was astounding, simply astounding. Now, well now I simply won’t shut up! And while I am less fearful when I write now, I still feel a tad naked and not quite steady on my feet…may always have that.

Randy covers me with praise and our newsletter readers have been amazingly supportive, so humbling and reassuring but there were two things that were nipping away at me; one is that a large chunk of people that read the newsletter still think Randy writes all of it, it’s okay I guess but one does tire of hearing, “Who was that guy in the Loire Valley that Randy wrote about? You know, the one that died”…when it was you that poured your heart into that piece. Sure in the scheme of things it doesn’t matter, they are there to buy what was written about…no matter who wrote it, but still kinda stinks. The other issue? I had more to say. More than would fit or be appropriate for the pages of the newsletter, and so Sans Dosage was born.



Now I can rant, piss and moan, retell drunkard stories and emote about wine, the Lakers or any little damn thing I please, really rather liberating and I didn’t really have to worry about being all nekkid because who was gonna read it? Um…yeah, turns out…people are reading, and no that’s not a pimple it’s a birthmark!

In the past few weeks I have been literally overwhelmed by people reaching out to me, saying the most incredibly nice things, telling me things like, “I sat down to read one post and kept reading for an hour” you cannot know, (but should) how happy you make me when I hear things like that…from this, this silly blog. Un freaking believable, my heart is swollen with pride and I am bubbling over with appreciation for all of you…I just wanted to thank you, from the bottom of my swelling heart…thank you all.



So that’s it, no smartass comments, no poking fun. Just me feeling profoundly grateful for all of your support and wanting to tell you how much it means to me…and helps me on my, “not looking like a jackass” journey. I’ll be a fun poking, drunk storytelling, jackass another day, today was a day of heartfelt thanks.
Sam

Another Freakin' Veto

Um

Pardon Me

But

Might

You

Be



$250 a bottle....in this market?
Veto