The dirty digger can drink his heart out

I am reliably informed by esteemed colleague Memex 1.1 that Flann O’Brien's Research Bureau had solved the problem of tinternet and journalism before it was even invented. Smart boy wanted as it were!

I do not remember the column or if I do a surfeit of Trink has done its work. However, I too believe that we are onto something here.

But why stop at journos, who are notoriously undiscerning when it comes to booze.

I think we could develop a niche market with Trink in the book trade all we need for the future is the electronic version.

Just think about it:-
Homage to Catalonia:- fumes of La Rioja or Penedes wafting from every page of the electronic Trink and to fund it, there, the offer of a lifetime, locked into your Kindle or Sony E-reader.
Buy your own vineyard!
Invest in the future of Tempranillio!

The House of Bernada Alba:-
Wafts of mothballs, and lavender.
However, cunningly, underneath these overtones the brazen, saline sensuality of Manzanilla, the bargainbasement enjoyment of Montilla-Moriles.

At a tangent:-
Once upon a long time ago in a far distant land, La Rioja, I remember standing around in a garage with a guy known to all but himself as Garbanzo. He proffered the potable result of his vinicultural endeavours out of large green plastic containers. Un be fucking lieve able. It was white, it came from La Rioja but it would never pass the test, it would never be certified but, Jesus, you could drink it till the cows came home.