A tidy little minx from the Rabid Rifle Winery, located deep in the upper slopes of the Republicunt Valley, where apparently you can see the lush vines being lovingly groped by promiscuous locals, from the comfort of the proprietors bedroom window.
Flaunting an intellectually light coloured salmon manifesto and a moist sickly texture, this stately beverage has a crisp apple nose, infused with delicate notes of unprotected teenage sex in secluded summer orchards. Seductively woven on a deregulated ‘screw the poor’ melon platform, this temptress skillfully seduces one with an initial poke of citrus delight in the first speech, then follows superbly with a finely scripted rhetoric of pear scented promisesto complete the second act. Climaxing with a rich layer of pomegranate propaganda, this darling finishes majesticallywith an applause of vanilla scented whispers, heavily coated in sugary references of godly approval.
Excellent with sweet desserts made from ripe fruit picked by illegal foreign workers and lathered in a high profit health careless reduction. For a golden pissfest after a long day dehumanizing low-income people at a political convention, you really can’t go wong et orl. FC