First Hot Slut Of The Day!

Martinelli’s Sparkling Cider, the first choice of the Thanksgiving children’s table when all efforts to smuggle cups of sweet nectar from the adult’s table have failed.

Watching hours of Dynasty, Beverly Hills Teens and Robin Leach gave me a taste for the finer things in life as a child, so I refused to nibble on a clot of Stove Top or swallow a slimy sliver of canned cranberries without washing it all down with the finest aged shampagne from the vineyards of Martinelli. At Thanksgiving times, my mother let my sister and I sip some Martinelli’s out of the crystal flutes she won at her work’s holiday party one year, so the whole experience was extra luxurious to me. Sipping that shit out of a real champagne flute made me feel like I was soaking in a bubble bath with diamonds all over my neck. Even though Martinelli’s is what you get when a bottle of Andre pisses after eating a bushel of apples, it looked like real champagne to me. Some for real fancy shit.

So if you want your Thanksgiving dinner table to drip with expensive sophistication, get a bottle of that mess. Although, nowadays I take my Martinelli’s with ten shots of apple vodka.

Happy Thanksgiving!