Winc if you wanna wine!

Wine me up, Scotty!

 Save a few bucks for Gardettos or a fruit salad or something neat like that and take $22 off your first month of Winc Wine - Winc offers 4 personalized wines each month. Bottles start at $13 each. Winc is not your traditional wine club - nuh uh, it ain’t!: those magicians are a direct-distribution global wine company that personalizes the entire wine experience - Theg are perfecting how wine is made (which in my case would include a bendy straw), distributed, perceived (again, straw) and purchased via their fancy schmancy Palate Profile quiz that recommends wine based on your unique tastes and enjoyed on behalf of a new gen of wine drinkers. It takes the hassle and guesswork out of picking a bottle from your local liquor store and delivers the perfect bottle directly to your doorstep which, to my fellow mama’s out there, holla. Kids in liquor stores SUUUUCK. They do all this as part of their epic quest to improve the experience for consumers, create a platform for artisanal winemaking, and build a grape-to-glass supply chain that's sustainable for the planet. Also, take over the planet. No more intimidating language - minus the whole global takeover thing - and steep price points, and more glee in the act of sharing a bottle. Or not sharing. With bendy straw in bottle.

Ch-ch-check it out! 

www.trywinc.com

Drunk Phone Secrets

A brief moment in the life of my phone.

If you are someone who is so blessed to have ever received a lengthy text from me, the reality is that I hardly ever actually type any message. I talk into my phone. And, spoiler alert: I’m a very wordy person so my messages get long.

Fast.

As I am word-vomiting into my phone, I am also typically driving because it seems to be the slightly safer way to keep up with my shenanigans. Hell, I’m using this tool right now to compose this ditty. (I will later proofread - fingers crossed I remember this step). But, this is my long-standing method of keeping my eyes on the road. My pretty little phone reads to me my incoming message in a robotic Australian man's voice and I then ramble back my response and pretty much let Siri take the wheel for the translation of madness. Siri doesn't understand me always.



Keep in mind that in the back of my car I typically have either my Star Wars obsessed Fred Astaire wannabe four-year-old son with his shining blue eyes and dimples for days who is super excited to interrupt anything I’m doing to tell me about the latest Marvel 'dude' that he and his buddies discussed while going on the slide today in Miss Kathy’s class, OR I am driving home from tennis practice my four-teeth-remaining seven-year-old while she drones on and on about Minecraft. And then Minecraft. And maybe she will mention something about Minecraft. And while she takes a deep breath, she may also talk about Roblox and then sneeze and say something about Minecraft and tennis and then ZOMG MAYBE SHE CAN BUILD A TENNIS WORLD IN MINECRAFT! 

If they are both in the car, they are fighting. No doubt about it.
This means I am trying to get them to stop fighting.
If I am trying to get them to stop fighting, I have asked them four times, and then I have begun yelling. This is all while talking into my phone about my opinion of Tito's vodka or Gap running pants or what I should make for dinner this Thursday or fill in the blank randombess that is completely unimportant.

Today I was texting back-and-forth with the husband. I did not proofread my phone because whatever. I didn't. My phone decided to officially quit trying to decipher my madness.

You’re welcome.