I can’t imagine a world where I don’t buy one of these things.
You think I’m kidding? Well, you don’t know me. The funnest part of my weekend is when I take all my recyclables out, clankity clanking like some old wino with rollers in my hair, a floral housecoat, and dirty pink slippers, and I dump my recyclables into the bin.
I kid, I kid!
Recycling is for suckers.
The funnest part of my weekend is when I take all my recyclables, clankity clanking like some old wino with rollers in my hair, a floral housecoat, and dirty pink slippers, and I throw my empty wine bottles at passing cars.
Anyone want to take a guess at how much wine I go through in an average week? A friend once turned me on to the notion of breakfast wine, and let’s just say, I haven’t been the same since.
But seriously, folks. This purse should have a choir of angels singing wherever it goes. You know how in Coming to America, those African chicks are always throwing rose petals wherever Prince Akeem walks?
Someone hire those African chicks to follow me around whenever I’m lugging my wine in this super sweet purse.
How meta would it be to carry a wine purse into a wine bar? That’s the stuff that head explosions are made of.
If you, like me, want your wine on the go, behold the glory that is the wine purse: