Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Not a left coast state!

So I took some time off to find my bearings. The balmy shores of Mar Pacífico had truly given me a profound appreciation for both the geographic diversity of this fine land as well as a rare opportunity to get to know a vast cross section of its inhabitants. I assumed that things would turn back to normal as I returned closer to my original adopted home. I could hardly have been more wrong.

I had pretty much had enough of these weird, dressy folk back during my little trip out to the coast, but yet here they were again. At least they seemed a little less fanatical and a bit more social than those I had previously encountered, albeit just as nerdy.

Even with their penchant for the consumption of cerebral tissue, their stomachs remained vacant enough to drink just as much as their Pacific Daylight Time counterparts.

This, of course, can easily be blamed on the presence of the Russians who, as they are wont to do, manhandled me.

If you know me by now, you realize that this sort of thing isn’t exactly my scene. I needed to unwind, so I set off upon the town, my limerick pen in tow:

In need of a smoky treat,
I wandered the local streets,
When I came out to play,
‘twas a leggy display,
and I swear he’d been groping her teats.

Hrm.. That is all.

Posted by Pooptoad on 09/16 at 08:28 PM
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