I am a writer, not a visual artist, but I love commissioning illustrations for my story. However, I have a tight budget. If you would like to see more amazing illustrations, please donate here!
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?
Sorry about the late reply. Working on the backlog.
Thanks for the fav on 131 - A Blue Pen and Too Much Time on Her Hands...
Clearly, she needs a hobby. The thing is, finding the right one can be a challenge. Sure, you’ve got your traditional go to activities, like tiddly winks with manhole covers, or underwater basket weaving, or maybe even something a bit more adventurous, like high impact reading. Which, for the uninitiated, is a late night activity, which involves two or more people lying in a bed, pushing themselves to the point of exhaustion. Each person reads the heaviest book they can find and the first one to get smacked in the face loses. It really adds a level of tension to the reading experience when at any moment you risk a head injury if you don’t stay awake. But reading isn’t for everyone. For those who prefer a more relaxing way to waste your time, I recommend snipe hunting. Now I know what you’re going to say, “animals are people too”, and “hunting is wrong”, and “why is my left buttock always numb?” Well, let me reassure you. Snipe hunting has all the frustration in inhospitable conditions without all the excitement and exhilaration of ever actually killing something. It’s win/win.
Thanks for the fav on 139 - I eat swabs like you for breakfast...
The nutritional value of swabs is rarely overstated, mainly because very people consider then as a viable source of sustenance. They’re not wrong. Swabs are a terrible food choice. Bad taste, worse texture and quite unpleasant to swallow, swabs provide almost no tangible dietary benefit. True, my colon has never been cleaner, but even that barely seems like a valid reason to subject oneself to this seemingly bizarre culinary fixation. But despite all those negatives, I continue consuming them and I’ll tell you why. It’s all in the name of Freedom. That’s right, I eat swabs to protect my inherent right to do so. Sure, that sounds like the lunatic rationalization of a half-eaten fruit cake, and I won’t argue with you on that point, but I’d just like to say that I have always been a stubborn jackass and when I read on the packet “Do Not Consume” I knew in my heart I couldn’t just let that sort of rampant tyranny stand. So there you have, my reason for eating swabs. Some might call it a noble crusade, and those that don’t certainly should, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m just doing my part to preserve this beautiful thing called Freedom.
Thank you for choosing AbsurdAir, your captain for this flight is KaidokJ. I have no license, I’m considered legally blind and I’m easily distrac… Wait, what was I talking about…
But not to fear. There’s a good chance we’ll never make our destination, but since this whole flight metaphor is just a weak attempt at a humorous anecdote, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. Ah damn, I just shattered the illusion by crashing through the 4th wall.
Anyway, thanks for the watch.
I’m sure you regret your choice by now, considering this madness is basically what you signed up for, but since all tickets are non-refundable, welcome to Crazytown. Quarantine measures come into effect upon arrival.
On a more serious note, here’s basically the run down. Posting regularly (fingers crossed), free funny stories in almost all fav replies, and an intro to Kevin the Llama in the Llama Badge reply. Also, if you haven’t already heard, I’ve been designated Kevin Llamason’s official biographer, so you can check out what he’s been up to in The Kevin Chronicles. (Unfortunately “The Kevin Chronicles” are currently on hiatus, while Kevin gets a handle on his pinecone addiction. In the meantime I hope to experiment with a new format in the near future, so keep an eye out for that)
So that’s about it. Thanks again for flying AbsurdAir, and I hope you enjoy the ride.