When I think port, I always imagine an old lady, after a dinner, retiring to her room to have her nightly glass of port. Not sure why. Must be the bunch of cheap detective pulp fictions I read. Didn't want to feel like that old lady.
Now I realize, that old lady was a smart fox who has been savoring her stash of port without letting anyone know how good it was!
Now I realize, that old lady was a smart fox who has been savoring her stash of port without letting anyone know how good it was!