I came home and felt like I walked into some alternate universe. Where on earth was the corkscrew? A perfectly good merlot sits on the counter, waiting to be molested, sniffed and consummated, while I dig around looking for the damn corkscrew. Maybe this is God's way of saving me from that evil description which stress and loneliness can send a spinster to be referred to - LUSH.
But though I appreciate all good intentions to save my reputation, I still would like a glass of wine before my much needed nap! I thought of sticking some dynamite in the cork but then oh yeah...the wine may explode, and stain my walls etc. I tried using a knife and almost got my pretty brown finger jacked off. Where the eff is the corkscrew? Or a man who has a corkscrew? Or just a screw. lol.
I can have one glass on this weight loss quest, right? Right?
