Thanks for the llama
I knew a llama once. At least I thought I knew him. I mean, how well can anyone really know anyone, much less a llama. With their air of mystery and thinly veiled contempt. It’s hard. But I digress.
His name was Kevin. But for reasons I will never understand, he would only ever answer to Albert. Identity issues aside, things started out okay. The usual introductory sniffing and sneezing went well, despite his allergies, but then things started going downhill during the ritual licking phase of the pleasantries. We pushed through. And had it not been for the spitting, we might have even been able to make it work, but alas, after just 3 seconds of bittersweet brotherhood, we finally decided to part ways. It’s kind of sad, when you think about it. Spitting seems like such an innocent thing to fight over, but he was pretty adamant that I should stop and that was just never going to happen. We might have overcome that issue, but Kevin, like all llamas, was very competitive. First came the stench competitions. Then it was belching contests. And lastly, a painstaking count to see which one was hairier. You can clearly see why our relationship was doomed. The poor fellow was a bit of a sore loser.
So he snuck out, taking with him a failed friendship, an obliviously optimistic dread of the future, and my sixth favorite toothbrush. Now that he is gone, I can honestly say, it's for the best. He was too much of a chick magnet anyway and who needs that poultry drama?
Full disclaimer, as Kevin’s official biographer, a position of which he blackmailed me into (don’t ask), I’ve been instructed to inform you about his ongoing series. The journey starts here with The Kevin Chronicles - Chapter 1, and this gallery contains the rest. You should check it out.
*End of cue card*
And don't worry, they're pretty short.
No pressure though, only if you want.
Thanks for the fav on INKTOBER 5: Build - We have the technology...
What can I say about technology? Well a lot. I could rail against the speed of its development, our growing dependency on it, or the mind boggling scale of its impact on the hard working Himalayan tapir tribes of western Angola. But I’m not going to do that. Today I would much rather take aim at a much more insidious force. Ranting Randys, Whining Whitneys, Whinging Wallys, Negative Nellys, Critics Christophs. That’s right, I’m talking about complainers. I have had up to here with the whole lot of them. All they do is sit around all day, nit-picking over the most inane of topics, spouting off a litany of complaints and criticism to anyone who will listen, most of which happens on the Internet, of all places. You would think, within this idyllic environment of social acceptance, altruism and personal accountability, the Internet would be the last place that such vile and despicable breed of human could thrive, but they do. They’re everywhere, and I think something has to be done about it. I don’t have any constructive suggestions, advice or anything really helpful to add to the conversation, but that’s beside the point. This isn’t about me, it’s about all those other complaining jerks. Someone should really do something about. I’m sure you’ll agree.
(Just to be clear, this was meant to be interpreted as comedy. I know, it can be subjective, so I apologise if this wasn’t apparent. Sometimes I miss the mark. As some of you might know, I usually write an absurd rant like spiel in my fav replies and this time I was struggling for an idea, so I decided to go a bit meta. If you were confused, don’t worry, just ignore the crazy. Also, thanks again for the fav. )