wine face

call me wine, oh! It's so prepossessing. It's got like, all the punch of soda and like, all the fermentation of nothing else.
Nothing else will I allow to stain my face.

I walk around with wine all the time. It matches my Heather Plants.
The bottle seems very charming when distorted through my glass.
These three are so charming next to each other like a nice oil painting.
It's a still of my life - heather and reverie.
I often have dreams of Reverie.

In my imagination I'm questing for dragons and tooting on my ole mouth harp.
The wine in my glass harmonizes vibratto like a bull in the heather.

Wine, oh! I talk to any old chum on the tri-via.
I'm decided
There I am, chewing mind gum with a friend. I look cute because my cheeks are rosy.
I titter and twitter and stutter and stitter.
Stittering is like laughing and poking people's stomachs at once.
There's nothing like it. I and Wine become close chums with every stitter.

Oh but sometimes wine really pisses me off! You know we miss each other every school day and then he's so violent with me when we meet again.
What have you been thinking about when I was away, Wine?
You make my lips embarrassingly colored purple.
I keep thinking you told our friends something weird about me.
They won't tell me what it is. Their eyes dart away just when I think they shall talk to me. You made me smell funny like a bull in a bathroom.
You are making my emotions violent and my arms violent, I am an ineffectual old boxer!
I can't fight with you for long with you in my embrace.

You keep me coming home again.
I think I will stay with you all day in bed. I'm reading a book and really crying.
Murakami is such a nice writer:
His glamour makes me cry all the time. You're my friend right?
What if you had a friend who cried all the time?
What if you had a friend who screamed all the time?

Your phone vibrates, baby. It's me. I'm chilling with Wine, why?
Are you getting jealous? It doesn't befit your rosy cheeks, this gray jealousy.
The wine and I are getting well along and you're just jealous.
Want to hang out next Wednesday? Our friendship won't ever burn out.
No matter how many times I kick you in the iron balls. That's because they're made of iron.
I'm glad and you're glad I bet that you were fitted with those.
Let's have some wine, oh! I almost forgot, you don't drink.


You told me in a message that Wine was getting to me.
You said, "You're like a ghost!"
It's alright being a ghost. You don't have any of the typical responsibilities.
You get to gallivant.
Why can't I gallivant without Wine? Well, because Wine awakens my.
My society is so stuffy and I feel it crushing down on my impulses. Why can't adults skip or play in the snow? Why do they have to be so quiet and avoid each other's glances? Why can't I laugh about misfortune and build sandcastles in the snow? Why can't I laugh about people farting in the bathroom? Why can't I laugh about people falling down? Why can't I laugh about fat children on bicycles? I really want to. It's who I am. But I don't want to be a Unabomber either.
Wine says I can do anything. Wine lets me sleep whenever I want. Wine lets me lick people's necks and yell and run around in bijou flats. He says I can buy plants and line my room with used condoms. He says be yourself, a ghost! A ghost a ghost a ghost of your ambitions! Everyone knows you didn't choose any of that alone, wine let you make the choice by removing your free will. Selling your soul. Selling your soldier. Sellfing your selfdom. Selfrich selfmeat immaterial selflessness. Selfershelferdelphia.

Wine, oh! I am a ghost with you, but sometimes that's better than being a lump of spaghetti stuck to the ceiling. (come on get in the car)

I'm with Wine in my kitchen. I'm giving his love to my friends. (i wanna take your breath away) They seem to like it. You make me feel so crazy!
(I won't hurt you) Something that came from an orchard can't hurt you. Monks love wine.

That's why they're so devout.
Wine, oh! You're so devout.