We start this day by talking about work once again. I was at work doing my thing and an ad came on for navel oranges. Navel. Oranges. Now there are two ways this can go and I’m going there in both instances. The first and by far the cleanest of the two roads is that these are NAVAL oranges, as in the navy, you know, the boat army, so to speak. There are some homosexual references to the navy that I won’t go into here. I could, but I won’t. Are these oranges working for the navy? Are they on shore leave, had a little too much to drink and ended up in the produce section of the supermarket? Do they wake up, look around and wonder, “How the hell did I get here?”
The other way is to look a navel as in navel. You know. I’m winking right now in that all-knowing way that people do from time to time when discussing matters of a sexual nature that may not be sexual at all. I do this a lot. Duckman is used to it. Call it the lore of the Weasel. Navel is a reference to the stomach so these are… stomach oranges? Hmm… That isn’t sexual at all, unless… No, that’s not going to work. Wow. Well anyway, let’s see what else I got!
Well, there is the leprechaun sex dance. Bear with me and I’ll explain all. There is a myth that every leprechaun has a pot of gold and will protect it fearlessly, but what would happen if they lost it to a challenger, a man or woman? Well, then they would need to somehow get it back, wouldn’t they? These creatures are small, so couldn’t beat a human in a fist fight. They would put their fists up, challenging someone to a fight and the human would be like, “Yeah right,” pick the little fella up and toss him into the paddock! They do have magic I believe I read somewhere. They tend to be mischievous and their magic would work to that end wouldn’t it?
But I have a theory. I was thinking about this whilst at work. I tend to do my best thinking while on the job. Maybe the leprechauns have a last ditch plan. Maybe something they hoped they would never have to use. It’s like the American president’s nuclear option, you know, that fabled football. The briefcase with the codes to all of America's nuclear launch sites. When all else fails they have a sex dance manoeuvre that they perform. They try to entice you, sexually, to return their pot of gold. Clothes start coming off and then things become X-rated, so to speak. I can’t say what happens after that point because it’s gross and I’m sure you don’t want to picture a little red-bearded dude doing a striptease.
I’ll let you recover. It may take you more time than I. I’m used to this because inside the Weasel’s head things get…weird. Very weird. Trust me, you’re better off not knowing.
Hopefully in the summer, our summer here south of the border, we will have some new material to share. I have stories to tell in audio format and it’s been a while since Duckman and I have done anything like that, so it’s about time for a return. Was checking out Duckman’s solo music project, n-Somnia, and he has been doing really well. If you haven’t checked out his stuff then do so because it’s really quite good. You should be able to access it through the site.