Welcome To American Wine

As you may know I have returned to the United States from my European travels and to my surprise I’ve landed in strange, new territories.  Though one step closer to my ultimate destination, Sonoma Wine Country, I am still about 7 hours away by car!  I am sharing my new digs with a wonderful (though chaotic) soul named Warner Brown.  He’s holding the microphone and I’m holding the guitar.
In fact, Warner told me about the “A REALLY GOODE JOB” opportunity in the first place, so I guess I need to thank him for all the extra work I’ve been doing as of late!  Thanks punk.

Warner’s a fairly young kid who spends a lot of time out and about socializing and womanizing. What else should a handsome single guy with a good job be doing with his spare time, eh?  That and making great music and drinking GOODE wine. 🙂
When Warner picked me up at LAX (late but who’s complaining) I couldn’t help but notice the familiar colours and logo on the carton which was on his back seat.  And like Pavlov’s Dog, my mouth started watering and after having been flying all day I was parched as it was.
As we neared the parked Japanese car the mysterious carton’s colours and logo became unmistakably clear, it was indeed a Murphy Goode Wine case and I was a mere meter within reach of liquid ecstasy.
Dropping my bags on the ground I immediately thrust the rear door open and bolted for the case of Murphy Goode Wine, much like a Pirate would lunge for his booty.  Upon laying my sweaty palms on the case itself it didn’t occur to me that this was the lightest case of wine I’d ever managed, particularly after lugging 100 pounds through airports all afternoon.  I peeled back the already opened cardboard container and in a blink of an eye my momentary bliss was debased to nothingness.  IT WAS EMPTY. Welcome to America.
Needless to say, my mood went from Yahoo! to Boohoo! in a couple seconds and all I wanted to do was go home.  Of course having no idea where home was to be, that was near impossible without Warner.  So, we loaded up the car and moved to Beverly.  Ok, not really.  Los Alamitos to be exact.
It was about 40 minutes later or so when we arrived at what I would be calling my new temporary home.  Apparently Warner moved in himself only one week before so I’m sure you can imagine what kind of shape the space is in at present.
Entering the flat in the living room (my bedroom) the kitchen is immediately on the left.  It’s there that I spotted another chance for the Wine Gods to redeem themselves.  Yes, on the counter I could see the makings of a Murphy Goode bottle of wine.  I assume it spawned from the empty case in Warners car.  Was he simply teasing me?  No matter.  Now we drink.
Ditching my belongings on the fluffy floor (no carpets in my EU home) I quickly sauntered over to the kitchen where the Murphy Goode bottle and two empty glasses rested on the counter top.  I thought, how cool is he? Warner, that is, to prepare such a warm homecoming.  Those heartfelt thoughts of pleasantry quickly turned to vicious scorn as my stomach once again turned from the nauseating reality of my surroundings.  The Murphy Goode bottle of 2003 Wild Card Claret was empty.  Warner must die.
Welcome to America, again.
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