Woine Toime

This was supposed to be "a glass of wine with my name on it" - you can just about make out my name written in the condensation if you squint a bit (a prize - or lots of kudos - to anybody who doesn't already know it who can make it out). Wednesdays are manic and mad and I need a drink at the end.
What it actually is, is a picture of horrible greasy fingerprints on a grubby wineglass! I am no Anthea Turner.