Why Settle For A Semi ?

 

In my years of sipping, slurping and sometimes spitting, I have never experienced a glass of Eight or Quarter Illon and most certainly never, alas, a bottle of Full Illon. Why do wine reps keep insisting on plying me with Semi-illons ??

 

In my quest for thirst-quenching oblivion, I have nurtured countless bottles of potential Full Illon’s half brothers, through their pre – pubescent years of “Battery acid- mixed- with- dry straw” obnoxiousness, to their rebellious period of slothy inactivity when they seem to succumb to teenage-like indolent torpor,  to their emerging  adult stage of glib-tongued entrepreneurial smoothness underlined by remnants of post-teenage snooty attitude.

 

I fremitate at the anticipation of meeting and greeting an adult Full Illon.

 

Would it display the self assured arrogance and skittishness of a share market-driven yuppie ?

 

Or would it exude the smooth assurance and solidity of a grey haired albeit slightly rotund middle aged business man?

 

Or furthermore, would it flaunt the uninhibited shallow proclivities and pneumatic curves

of a shape-enhanced centrefold model ?

 

Meanwhile, having enjoyed the delicacy, fragility and sometime sternness of an array of  Semi-Llons, I now lay back, disengage my brain from my liver and fantasise about the experience of allowing a Full – Illon to deeply tantalise my tonsils.