I have been hearing the voices for some time. Most of them saying things like “Just please go away you fruitcake”, but in recent days I have heard a deeper message.
I was out looking for a 29-leaf clover – less rewarding than I had hoped but, of course, my failures were surely just a test of my faith - when a voice spoke to me in 29 tongues.
And so now, here I am collecting 29 of every species waiting for the great deluge of custard that will sweep away the non-believers in a torrent of sticky yellow.
To be honest it’s been more than a little challenging. The 29 tree frogs made short work of the 29 mosquitoes but their glory was cut short by the 29 diamond pythons. And when it comes to larger animals, like buffalo, let’s just say that the impact of the total digestive process is enough to strip the lining out of you nostrils. I am dreading the elephants.
And then there’s the really rare species. I now have the last 29 yangtzee river dolphins in existence in an inflatable pool, a fact that has made me a person of interest to Interpol. My collection of 29 fake moustaches has come in very handy.
Of course, it’s not just capturing the animals that’s the challenge, it’s housing them as well. I have been working on my 29-level ark, but it’s progressing much slower than I had hoped. The 29 termites (which rapidly grew to 29 thousand) polished off the first one and I’m now regretting collecting the 29 tigers so early. They’ve taken over the second boat, and it turns out that having 29 tigers disagreeing with you when you try and move them on is pretty much a bowel-loosening experience.
So, I’ve got lemurs in the laundry, baboons in the bedroom, koalas in the kitchen and toucans in the toilet. The noise is unbelievable, especially as it seems that whenever you put 29 of anything together at least half want to kill the other half, or mate with it as loudly as possible.
But what worries me most of all is that, as I pull yet another gerbil out of the cereal box, I may not have the faith to see this through. I’m pretty sure I’m about a million species short of the mark, so the new world is just going to have to live without a heckofalot of lizards, ants, boring brown birds and any number of indistinguishable species of deer. Not that the deer would last long with the tigers around anyway.
And so as the sun sets on my house full of roaring, snorting, screaming, coughing, croaking, squawking, defecating beasties – I cry to the heavens “Bring on the custard!”
If you would like to help me in my final days please go to
http://www.febfastfundraising.com.au/chris_jones_97
and consider making a donation. Sure the world is all going to end in yellow, but why not make somebody’s life a bit better while we’re waiting.
I was out looking for a 29-leaf clover – less rewarding than I had hoped but, of course, my failures were surely just a test of my faith - when a voice spoke to me in 29 tongues.
And so now, here I am collecting 29 of every species waiting for the great deluge of custard that will sweep away the non-believers in a torrent of sticky yellow.
To be honest it’s been more than a little challenging. The 29 tree frogs made short work of the 29 mosquitoes but their glory was cut short by the 29 diamond pythons. And when it comes to larger animals, like buffalo, let’s just say that the impact of the total digestive process is enough to strip the lining out of you nostrils. I am dreading the elephants.
And then there’s the really rare species. I now have the last 29 yangtzee river dolphins in existence in an inflatable pool, a fact that has made me a person of interest to Interpol. My collection of 29 fake moustaches has come in very handy.
Of course, it’s not just capturing the animals that’s the challenge, it’s housing them as well. I have been working on my 29-level ark, but it’s progressing much slower than I had hoped. The 29 termites (which rapidly grew to 29 thousand) polished off the first one and I’m now regretting collecting the 29 tigers so early. They’ve taken over the second boat, and it turns out that having 29 tigers disagreeing with you when you try and move them on is pretty much a bowel-loosening experience.
So, I’ve got lemurs in the laundry, baboons in the bedroom, koalas in the kitchen and toucans in the toilet. The noise is unbelievable, especially as it seems that whenever you put 29 of anything together at least half want to kill the other half, or mate with it as loudly as possible.
But what worries me most of all is that, as I pull yet another gerbil out of the cereal box, I may not have the faith to see this through. I’m pretty sure I’m about a million species short of the mark, so the new world is just going to have to live without a heckofalot of lizards, ants, boring brown birds and any number of indistinguishable species of deer. Not that the deer would last long with the tigers around anyway.
And so as the sun sets on my house full of roaring, snorting, screaming, coughing, croaking, squawking, defecating beasties – I cry to the heavens “Bring on the custard!”
If you would like to help me in my final days please go to
http://www.febfastfundraising.com.au/chris_jones_97
and consider making a donation. Sure the world is all going to end in yellow, but why not make somebody’s life a bit better while we’re waiting.