Red and White wine constantly fight for my affections. But boys, you’re just going to have to share me. Red, usually I love you more, even if it took me longer to get used to your weird warmness. And yes, White, I know you’re still a little bitter. I know this because when I spend those lazy summer evenings with you I always wake up feeling like I was hit with an oak barrel. You get your petty revenge, you scamp.
Still, I can’t help but love you. I can’t help but love you both.
Even if I’m technically married to vodka.
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