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Fellow wine-lovers, I recieved a text message that I feel you would enjoy. It is rather difficult to explain, so I will simply post it and let it speak for itself. Enjoy, all.
"I had a dream about you last night. It was raining and I was in the jungle wearing a white dress. I heard a group of natives chanting your name, so I sped to the clearing where I knew that you were and that they were chanting your name from. You were ensconced on an HUEG throne and I approached your jungle throne. I stripped naked and stood before you. But you were not interested. You turned aside and I saw on your nightstand a beautiful bottle of wine, a 1964 merlot. I came closer to you, moving provocatively in an attempt to catch your eye, but you were distracted, pouring the exquisite vintage into a fine wide-mouthed crystal goblet.
I perched on the arm of your chair and swayed suggestively, gazing into your eyes. You began to unzip your smoking jacket, and I knew I had your attention. The wine received one of your fingers, and I knew that you could tell that it had been warmed by my love-heat to a most amenable temperature. Then I reached down, between your legs...only to have you push me aside, crying “Begone!” As I lay at the base of your throne, I watched you arise and stand full eight feet tall, wine goblet in hand, jacket unzipped, and pants located elsewhere. Gazing down, you raised the goblet to your lips, then lowered it. With your other hand you swept the folds of the jacket aside, revealing a magnificent pair of expertly-groomed testicles and a lengthy, polished shaft. The natives began beating a tatoo on the drums as you raised the goblet to your organs and the fires balzed higher. As you entered the liquid, all present repeated a primal, joyous chant.
Seeking to fit in with the strange proceedings, I sought libation. I found my cast-off dress, dredged a hip-flask from it, and reapproached the throne where you stood in the wine and in the throes of ecstasy. I caught your eye, directed your gaze to the flask, and began to drink. Pulling out of the wine and setting the goblet lovingly down on its stand, you looked on in bewilderment. “You drink your refreshment?” you asked. I replied “Yes, nothing beats champagne on a hot night.” A look of pure madness and raeg beyond mortal comprehension assumed a place on your visage.
I watched in horror as your jacket-clad figure grew to monstrous size and proportion. Long horns grew from your head and your fingers grew long, though no less elegant. The jacket reformed around your increasingly-muscular chest and your black satin pants reappeared about your lower half, and a crown of finely wrought gold on your head. Soon I stood in terror before the most elegant demon I had ever witnessed.
“HADST THOU NOT PARTAKEN OF THE VILEST JUICE, THOU HADST NE’ER BEEN DAMNED!” the creature roared and I was rightfully filled with the purest terror. The de
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class /
co /
eh /
fit /
halp /
jew /
lit /
phi /
pr /
rnb /
sci /
tg /
w /
zom
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a /
grim /
hi /
me /
rx /
vg /
wp /
x
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be /
cake /
cd /
d /
di /
elit /
fag /
fur /
gif /
h /
men /
pco /
s /
sm /
ss /
unf /
v
]