You couldn’t miss it.
As the stretch limo rolled into the parking lot of Tobin James Winery, Grumps commented, “That’s a column.”
Even when wine tasting in Paso Robles, he takes his role seriously as my chief topic solicitor.
“OK,” I said, and turned to read the signage.
“The Magical Menopause Tour” was plastered across the side of the bus in sparkly neon pink writing, subtle as a fart in a yoga class. I burst into laughter wishing I had come up with that one first.
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