Sunday, February 27, 2022


The turkey vulture, who is a bit ghoulish, often uses the internet to research ways he can get closer to his goal of devouring the little girl hamster who visits nearly everyday, who is a great friend of the fuchsia cat and likes to dance. I have never actually witnessed the boogie woogie conga, but the sheep and the senior teddy bear have assured me it is a regular event, joyous yet decorous. When I get home, nothing is broken, there are no evidences of riotous behaviours, and everyone seems happier.

I myself could not join in boogie woogie conga (led by the little girl hamster) because when I get home my right leg hurts like bejazus and is buggered up to a fare-thee-well, and takes an hour or so to sufficiently recover so that I can enjoy the rest of the evening.
Falling asleep is sometimes a bit of a problem.

It is a defective body part.
The turkey vulture has on occasion also used my computer to search the internet for suppliers of 'fatty inner thighs', which he wishes to devour. I feel that this search is pointless; he should go whole hog and look for an entire leg, in decent condition, to replace the one which is hosed, which probably has no resale value anyhow, he can have it once I've replaced it.

It's a worthwhile project.

After all, klopsing someone over the head in Marin County, where I work, is still, regretably, not a viable course of action. Even though I could use a new right leg, the turkey vulture wants to eat some fatty inner thighs, we need to fertilize the victory garden with some high grade bio waste, and there are plenty of useless bourgeois droodges there anyhow.

And I refuse to consider the vegetarian alternative.
Tofu just can't support a full body weight.

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