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I’m currently in transition, leaving Portland a lowly caterpillar, entering the silver chrysalis of the aircraft, and emerging in Los Angeles a beautiful butterfly with a bad case of the Dramamine munchies.
Hope to be back with something blogworthy later this afternoon.
Dramamine on a commercial flight? In beautiful weather? Wuss.
I hope the pupating goes better than my attempt at speciation. I thought I almost had it when a doctor suggested they might have to try marsupialization on me, but that’s been postponed indefinitely though I’m told it’ll happen eventually. (You know, you can look it up if you want, but it’ll just ruin the image you might have of me post-procedure as a contented fuzzy wombat, so I wouldn’t.)
Can you tell me, Mr Casey, said the Pooka interposing quickly, whether my wife is a kangaroo?
The poet stared at him in surprise.
What in the name of God, he asked, do you mean by throwing a question like that at me? Eh?
I was wondering, said the Pooka.
A kangaroo? She might be a lump of a carrot for all I know. Do you mean a marsupial?
Yes, I looked up ‘marsupialisation’. There were pictures and everything.
Surprisingly, there is as yet no form of surgical intervention known as ‘monotremisation’.
I’m Pupating
I did that once. It took a lot more than Dramamine to stop it.
Something to say?
Portland, a lowly caterpillar? I live here, and it seems to me more like a sea anemone.
Left by Monkay on August 23rd, 2008