The Question: If you weren't human, what would you be?

I played one of those promising games on the internet. The one that tells me I am going to love the results. The question was, "If you weren't human; what would you be?" My results completed and stated that I was red wine.

What will be the name of The Orchard I am conjugated and fermented on?

As a wine, I wonder if starting as a beginner will increase my cost as I age.

Am I cheap or expensive?

Depending on the answer, I may not want to go.

Never mind. I am bottled wine. Once grown, taken care of in the field, and bottled. I no longer have a voice. I mean choice.

That almost reflects whilst looking around, in my core, down my gleaming bowl like humanity caught in the biggest bag of tricks. Trix are not just for kids. They are for goats too.

Am I consumed on Saturday or Sunday Morning at church or in homes in exchange of blood for "The Last Supper" rituals?

Will any exclusive bottles be sold, and if so, at what price?

This bottle that I am; What is its cost to neglect, project ones blues, loss of fears, sacrifice, happiness, or wholeness?

What type of stemware do you pour me in?

Cabernet, Burgundy, Bordeaux, Zinfandel, Pinot Noir, or Rose?

How will I be described at a wine-tasting party?

What will the name of the wine-tasting event be?

Would the event be at Sunrise or Sunset?

In the evening, do you take pleasure in me to mellow out your day?

Do I give your Kundalini an incredible thrill to start the day?

Am I served to you with snacks or a five-course star elegant dinner?

If so, what kind of snack or meal do I accompany or accommodate?

Is the size of my bottle skinny or plump?

Am I an unscrewed cap or a cork to pop?

A bottle opener in preference to untwist the meaning of my aura before you unapologetically sinfully cipher and digest my spirits.

Where did you learn about me?

Sip and Paint?

Did you draw me on the blank canvas?

What label did you give me?

One from this realm?

Or did you birth one not yet created in this century?

Maybe it was a Hole in the Wall Hot Spot?

A.A. nightclub?

Epic, The Grand, The Point, The Triangle?

Tongue & Groove, MJQ Concourse, Gold Room, Mercedes Benz Stadium?

Cracker Barrel, Denny's, TGIF?

Olive Garden, Red Lobster, Michael's Soul Food Kitchen?

52 Seasons, Ruth Chris, Ocean Prime?

Or will light dust be gathered on me from sitting at the closest CVS Pharmacy, Aldi's, Sam's Club, or Costco until you purchase me and wipe me down?

Perhaps, I will be found in the neighborhoods of Noho, Hudson Yards, Tribeca, Central Park South, and Nolita.

It would be nice to be served next to

Diamonds Are Forever Martinis at The Ritz Carlton in Tokyo

The Ono at XS nightclub at the Wynn in Las Vegas

or

Monica Martini at the Minus5Ice Experience in Las Vegas.

Will a glass of me run you the same tab as a shot of Kaliburr Crystal?

Am I worth ordering packaged boxes for a club night, special parties, and weddings?

Am I at your VIP table for a nightcap?

Do I encourage you to sip, swallow, or guzzle?

A little too much of me. Do you undress at the party, or does someone else do it for you?

Please don't leave me alone in public places; I don't particularly embrace Mickey Finn well. His dilute and ambiguous manipulative deception overwhelms me.

Since I am red wine, red wine is good for the heart. A few glasses of me while pregnant is good for your health.

Do I have family?

That would be nice.

A brother or sister next to fill up flute or champagne glasses.

I would like to be the kind of wine you share with friends and not alone.

Once in you, I make you sing, dance, disrobe, and moan.

It is up to you whether those moans are baritone, tenor, alto, soprano, but I personally prefer to hear your falsetto.

Please do lose all your inhibitions and dance on tables, bar tops, stages, car shows, games, and at The Grammy.

Hide me in a flask and carry be everywhere with you.

Are you trying to figure out how you got to your current state, and how your assets will get the h-e- double hockey sticks home.

That you say, "Damn," in the a.m. once your spirit returns to your body.

Along with these questions.

Where is my car?

Where the freak is my clothes?

Was the sex good last night cause I sho' don't remember the timber when I fell?

I want to be the type of wine that makes you joke afterward with each of your friends. " You all know I am going to enter a false place called hell for last night or this a.m.!" The stories you keep secret and are bent on not disclosing. I dare you to share them.

That magnificent 100 % priceless facelift and makeover for if that story ever unfolded.

Wishful thinking for you!

Hopefully, you have so much fun that you can't wait long for your next bottle, two or three.

Therefore, you keep me in rotation, on rotation, have me when you want to leave the plantation of the nation, orbit in another galaxy, or at the very least visit the space station to escape the sanction of dehydration from muthafukas that have been jiving your every last nerve.

Kick all the bullish to the curve.

Take a load off.

Swerve it.

Baby, I am here.

Wine and your favorite record on repeat.

Please and thank you very much, Dear.

Hydro smoke, Hookah, or Bong smoke mixed with this escapade drink is totally in sync with your mood and surroundings.

Perhaps that's not your groove.

Do you drink me with Black and Mild, Swishers, Dutch Masters, or Cubans?

If Cuban, which one?

Montecristo #2, H. Upmann #2, Bolivar Belicoso Fino, Bolivar Royal Corona, or Ramon Allones Specially Selected?

Perhaps your stack has one of these on reserve or deck for your delicate palette.

Gurka Royal Courtesan, Mayan Sicars, Gran Habano No 5, Regius Double Corona, King of Denmark, Gurkha His Majesty’s Reserves, Gurkha His Majesty’s Reserves, Cohiba Behike, Arturo Fuente Opus X or The Arturo Fuente Anniverxario?

Do you only drink me when you are sad? "Blame Game" on salt. Cirque Du Soleil or naught. Should you have thrown a pinch of those Himalayan crystals over your left shoulder? "Did Yeezy teach you that?"

"Blame it on the Alcohol," said Jamie Foxx.

Yep! "Say it's my fault," said Chrisette Michele.

Jazmin Sullivan and I keep bagging "Bodies."

That's okay. The "Pimp Juice Epiphany" in this cup prevents you from finding "My Phone" like Lizzo.

Bouncing now to a YingYang Twins symphony with more drink in your cup. Even when you finally find yourself by yourself.

If you go home and put on Aretha Franklin 2010 album " Love Songs" not only will you be ,"Drinking Again," but "Muddy Waters" just may find you.

I'll treat you real nice.

Give you a continual appetite for more.

Hydroplanes soar and score to non-captioned pours that flow limitlessly.

Leave the lever liquid on a diamond drip.

I will be any wine that keeps you in your divine.

Maybe this will be the year you create and decorate candles that sit beside me. It would be lovely to have coasters for my foot after a long night. Oh! Could I have some nifty cute ice cubes for when I get a little warm?I do not mind if you decorate me with your artwork. Other items I do not mind comingling with are blunt wrappers, homemade cigars, or ashtrays. Those can be sold for profits for your pockets as well.

All I ask ever; is with you and I. It is pretty simple. Don't drink and drive. Do elevate in your custom state and learn.