[NOTE: BACK WHEN I WAS IN COLLEGE, I USED TO DO WRITING EXERCISES TO WARM UP BEFORE WORKING ON SOMETHING WITH MORE MEAT ON IT. THEY WERE USUALLY SHORT AND SILLY, KIND OF LIKE A JOKE. I NO LONGER DO THE EXERCISES BECAUSE I NO LONGER HAVE AS MUCH TIME AS I DID BACK THEN. (I DO THEM, HOWEVER, IF I HAVE NOTHING ELSE TO WORK ON. I HAVE TO STAY SHARP, YOU KNOW.) SOME OF THEM ARE KIND OF GOOD, THOUGH, IF ONLY FOR A CHUCKLE. I'VE DECIDED TO START POSTING THEM HERE ON TUESDAYS, SO I WILL NOW BE PUTTING SOMETHING HERE EVERY . . . FUCKING . . . DAY OF THE WEEK. I HOPE YOU ENJOY.]
Charles Darwin’s boat approached the shore of Tierra del Fuego, and he could see upon the beach a group of natives. They were stark naked and had multicolored paint swirls all over their bodies. He could see them looking at him, foaming at their mouths, eyes wild, their muscles tensed up, ready to attack. Jesus, hadn’t he heard somewhere that they were cannibals?
“My God!” he gasped. “Stop the boat! They’re savages! They’re going to kill us! Turn around! Turn AROUND! Quick! Before they attack!”
Darwin’s boat retreated from the shore, headed back to the main boat, leaving Tierra del Fuego and its inhabitants behind.
“Huh,” a Fuegian said. “That was weird.”
“What do you think he wanted?” asked another.
“I don’t know. Well, anyway, welcome to Starbucks. Can I take your order?”
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
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