THEY TURN INTO ANIMALS

A conversation about the things that inspire us started, several sentences ago, with despair over the Cookie Monster having become a vegetarian, which is just wrong. Back in 2009 he sang the praises of carrots, with his friends the musical broccoli. Plus potato, tomato, and bag of chopped cabbage. Either they bribed him, big time, or threatened him.

Muppets do NOT get diabetes! It's just not possible. And Cookie Monster's entire raison d'etre is demolishing cookies. Anything else is against his nature.

I've always found Cookie Monster an inspiration, so watching him sing about 'healthy food' was probably the worst two plus minutes on youtube ever.
Almost as bad as anything with that self-centered prima donna pig.

I wept with him when he found out that the library did NOT HAVE cookies.
"Me not fussy, just gimme box of cookies!" Hyperventilating here!
Sadly, the library does not have glasses of milk either.

Once we stopped talking about Cookie Monster, the entire conversation went south. We had agreed up to that point, but his mention of inspiring accounts of football players and recent games left me cold. So I brought up what is, to me, the truest sentence ever spoken, the one statement above all others which I have taken to heart, that guides me in my daily life.


"Wir können hier nicht anhalten; das ist fledermausland!"


In this life, many times, things are like being somewhere outside of Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs begin to take hold.You might feel a bit lightheaded, and maybe you shouldn't drive. Perhaps there is a roaring all around you, and the sky could be filled with huge things all swooping, screeching, and diving, around the car.

So it's a metaphor. Don't stop where you are. It's bat country.

When life gets complicated and the weasels start closing in, load up and drive like a bastard. Grease your face with butter.
And put the music at top volume.

Just don't stop; everywhere is outside Barstow.

Seriously, dude. Fledermausland.



Alas, I did not get to explain all this to the football fan, as he had become distracted by shiny male rumps encased in spandex pounding astroturf.
The season has started. We've lost him.



The possibility of his complete mental and physical collapse is now very real.

The frenzied football fiend fears nothing. He will attack, for no reason, with every weapon at his command. Beware. Anyone facing a football addict should use all necessary force immediately.

A room full of howling monkeys who pee at the same time.


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