I hate buying wine these days.
I feel like a woman buying a used car.

Put a generic wine label that identifies:
1.) the grape
2.) the region
3.) the year

WITHOUT
tons of graphical bullshit that makes me avoid it regardless if that information is clearly stated.

CUTESY != purchase.

I basically had my standard Tuesday evening with friends. I had two whiskey cokes, an Old Milwaukee Tall Boy and Two Old Style Tall Boys.

"Bond insisted on ordering Leither's Haig-and-Haig 'on the rocks' [a quality Scotch whiskey - Lisa] and then he looked carefully at the barman.

'A dry martini,' he said. 'One. In a deep champagne goblet.'

'Oui, monsieur.'

'Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon's [an English gin - Lisa], one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?'

'Certainly, monsieur.' The barman seemed pleasant with the idea.

'Gosh that's certainly a drink,' said Leiter.

Bond laughed. 'When I'm ... er ... concentrating.' he explained, 'I never have more than one drink before dinner. But I do like that one to be large and very strong and very cold and very well-made. I hate small portions of anything, particularly when they taste bad. This drink's my own invention. I'm going to patent it when I can think of a good name.'

He watched carefully as the deep glass became frosted with the pale golden drink, slightly aerated by the bruising of the shaker. He reached for it and took a long sip.

'Excellent,' he said to the barman, 'but if you can get a vodka made with grain instead of potatoes, you will find it still better.'

If you ever have the opportunity, try the Kilt Lifter. One of my favorites.