The name of this mob pretty much describes every one of my Saturday nights between 1995 and 1999. And, if I'm honest, pretty much exactly every NYE since then as well.
Running races, sneaky streaks, laps of the block, the occasional midnight swim. If there wasn't a nudie run involved, it wasn't, and isn't, a real party.
And so, as you might imagine, I was of course very pleased to discover this cheeky little Rizza from the Clare Valley.
I ordered a case at half price from the Vinomofo boys (check it out - it's Groupon for wine). That's $11 a bottle. And that, my dear friends, is sectionably insane for a wine as nice as this.
It's as pale as a Pommy's pallor, but its colour completely belies its impending potency.
It gives off a vibrant whiff that is all lemony and limey and sharp and inviting.
The drinking is then zippy and zingy and dry and chock full of more delicious citrusy tartness.
It's the sort of delectably rewarding drop that encourages you to re-live your glory days by dropping the draws, getting the tackle out and engaging in a cheeky spot of late night streaking.
Through the quad. To the gymnasium.
Anyway, the lesson here is that it is possible to find a really good wine for $11. The trick is to find someone that genuinely cares about what they’re producing, and to steer clear of mass-produced rubbish.
Drink with: Frank The Tank