Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Wait.. Weren’t we just here? This isn’t Canada?

Per my request, my handler left the car running following our departure from our parched environs until we reached a more agreeably location, even when he stopped to eat, murder hitchhikers, cavort with prostitutes of both genders, or whatever my imagination decided it was he was doing. The television programs in this nation are beginning to get to me. After a rather exhaustive journey and a wonderful evening spent within the confines of the Johnson Presidential Jacuzzi Suite. As always, peace did not persist and I was, yet again, jostled into a bit of sport:

At this point, I’m familiar with the American pastime of racing to the point where the thought of it induces unpleasant sensations and irregular bowel movements. Unlike the contents of my colon, my infatuation with it had seem to run its course. That is, until..

They let me in a car. They let me in a car!

THEY LET ME IN A CAR!@$!@$%!

Whatever adrenaline a toad can produce during the course of an eight minute period, let it be known that I produced it. My handler managed to finish in dead last out of six runners, with an average lap time of 35.58s. I, on the other hand, decimated the competition:

The second and third place finishers didn’t even bother getting on the podium. It was that bad. After the obligatory spraying of champagne, which went thoroughly unappreciated by the staff of the racing facility, it was back to the hotel for some wind down and a fine display from a visitor who happened to be in town to film one of those bizarre ‘trick shot’ billiards competitions for ESPN. He invited me onto the table to witness his skill.

I was nervous, but he was apparently proficient enough to manage what he dubbed the “Lipton Two-Pocket Sweaty Teabag.“

Impressive.

Posted by Pooptoad on 08/12 at 10:05 PM
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Whatever Happens Here Involves Animals

I continued to travel North, my handler warning me all the time that I could not fully experience the diversity of profound experiences that this hot zoo of a city had to offer. I did my best to avoid the Bacchanalia of the more densely occupied environs. Not surprisingly, I felt most comfortable surrounded by fauna other than homo sapiens. A zoo it would be.

This fellow just didn’t seem as friendly as the ones at the races. Nor as fast. I was rather bored at this point and, with the dry desert sky parching my sensitive skin, I made haste for more temperate climes.

Oh, how relaxing! And the colors! I fear that this nation is beginning to wear on me. There is no palette you can fail to create indoors and every turn reveals another profound vista outside! If only there weren’t so many ferocious creatures outdoors to keep me inside!

Dear lord, I need to get away from this place! Bears. INDOORS! What heinous creation is this? Who would dare to keep such creatures unconfined?! I need to ground myself yet again.

At last. Drinking and gambling.

Inhale. Exhale.

Tiny horses. I laughed a lot and thought, “There. I am baselined yet again.“

Although probably not in those words at the time.

Posted by Pooptoad on 08/12 at 09:35 PM
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