No, I am not talking about the song by UB40. I am talking about sweet red wine, the nectar of the gods. As evidenced by yesterday’s post I am none to thrilled with Monday’s as of late and I needed a pick me up. Well guess who was there for me when I truly needed someone. That’s right, red wine. You happen to be delicious when poured into spaghetti sauce. You also happen to be delicious when I pour you down my throat. I don’t give a flying boner if you stain my teeth and clothing. I just like you for you. That’s why I would like to address this letter to red wine so that the whole world can see my feelings.
Dear Red Wine.
Let’s make babies and fly away to the south of France and live in small château for the rest of our days. We could take long horseback rides across the sweeping countryside and pretend to become cheese connoisseurs. I would massage your back and you could massage my stomach. I long for the time when I will feel your embrace and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as we watch the sun dip into the ocean whilst aboard my gigantic pleasure yacht.
Sexually yours,
Burt
No comments:
Post a Comment