Safe to say that in my first year, I’ve experienced a fair bit of teasing over how practically useful my degree is. I’m still tempted to wander into a bar and order vinum. Even my own mother enjoys ribbing me about the great contribution I’m making to society and bemoans the fact I’m still useless at University Challenge.
What better way to welcome our writers than through some Desert Island Picks? Get to know columnists Chris and Flora through what they would take with them if they were marooned in the middle of nowhere.
I step out of the window into the night, to take a long stroll through the city streets in a taxi. Sipping my wine and rocking the cab with my jumps of joy.
Sit back. Cradle the bowl of the glass in well washed hands. Remember that relaxation is nine tenths of the law. And now sit further back. See how far you can force your spine into the withering cushion of your chair. Feel it crack. You are truly relaxed.
Hi guys. We hope you’ll play along and have fun with this wine review. However, please enjoy safely. Before reading, ask your parents to help move chairs, tables and other objects you might bump into. And please remember: don’t run, jump or dance while drinking the wine.
A wine for the ages, but only those ages old enough to have amassed an hereditary fortune equal to The Bank of Scotland. I toss back my golden locks, and deep-throat the bottle. Finally some good wine.
“I tenderly nuzzle at the pale flavours. Ah, the taste of dew flopping off an overladen grass blade. You can see the hairs of each leaf magnified by the silvering balls of juice.”
“Isolation presses the bottle back into my arms and I sip again, this time with one of those curly straws that are impossible to wash. That nostalgic bubbling starts, a polyphonic outcry of Bordeaux against blue-tinted plastic. But still the wine yields no hidden layer. No yoke.”
“Very good!” I exclaim as an ice cream van rams me into the cliff, again. I stumble up, pulling handfuls of sand from my mouth as the van revs it’s Mr. Whippy machine.
“I peer down the bottle’s shaft to see from whence this lovely voice erupts and in its heart I see myself rouged and reflected back, for the voice came from within me. I sip the wine, but it sips me harder”