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Archibald Goes to Thailand I once went to Thailand and fell in love with a woman who only ate cheese. She has purple hair too. Yes. Purple. But I must say it was the most beautiful purple hair I had ever seen. Her name was Esmeralda. She lived in a house surrounded by hula hoops. She was the Thailand Miss Hula Hoop champion ten years prior to our meeting, carrying on the proud tradition of her ancestors, who had dominated the contest since the invention of the hula hoop in 1957. I went to one with her at my tender age of 154. It was real exciting, actually. Hula hoops are fun. Except not for me. I haven’t been able to come within ten feet of a hula hoop since that day without hyperventilating, due to one girl who took on just a few too many hoops at one time. She dropped one and tripped, rolling off the stage and into my lap (Esmeralda had managed to get me front row seats on the contrition I watch Chimmy, the contest manages Pomeranian) The poor folding chair underneath me couldn’t hold the weight of one 154 year old man, 39 hula hoops, the girl attached to them, and a Pomeranian. It snapped in half, and Chimmy, who I’d been feeding at the time, got scared as one might expect a dog to do. He promptly yelped and bit down, chomping off my left pinky finger as well as his puppy-chow. They were able to re-attach it, but it’s mostly dead now, and doesn’t do anything but flop there. Oh well. Who really needs that finger anyways? So now I am terrified of those darn circular things. In fact, hold on a minute while I go get a paper bag. Retelling that story freaked me out a bit (huff puff) (puff huff) Now one might think that the Great Pinky Fiasco of Thailand would have frightened me away from Pomeranians, not hula hoops. But yet…it wasn’t really the dogs fault. I would probably have done the same in his place. But the hula hoops-that was an issue. So I’m sure you can imagine how things with Esmeralda didn’t work out. Plus, she only ate cheese. I don’t really like cheese. I like pineapples. |
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