Frosé-Forged FrenemyThe enemy of my enemy is my frenemy. Forged in the whirring depths of the magical fros machine, will this newfound frozen fren ship last past Labor Day?! Only time will tell. So rise up from your barstools, fros frens, and cheers your glasses to rosy, slushy flows that never stop. May you ride your buzz into battle, uniting against a common enemy: Chardonnay. "Go peddle that pass oaky nonsense somewhere else, sweetheart!"