8.6.04 | The Loathing of Carrots
Many of my fans have been quietly asking about my last post, "Why does he keep a large hammer in the kitchen drawer"?
"Aaarh", i nod, all sagely, (in a bad Devonshire accent)... "That woulde bea too stop'n they carrots from getting all uppity, loike. Th' threat of a good olde hamm'rin' 'bairt th' chops, be keepin' them in thair place, it do".
You ever seeen jumpy carrots?! Yaay!!! Jumpy carrots! Jumpy carrots! Juuuumpyyy- CARROTS!... er... where was i? Oh yeah, let me tell you about carrots and why we need to keep a tight leash on them:
You think i'm making this all up, don't you? You're thinking "Phshaw! He's making this all up. And he's obviously barmy".
but nooo-ooo, you unbeliever you! I can prove it. All you need to do is walk through a carrot field on a quiet, sunday afternoon, with a blue sky and a bright sun over head... maybe the odd cute-looking cloud shaped like a teddy-bear, passing serenely by. A gentle breeze, stirring your hair and keeping yer just on the right side of 'too hot'. Alone.
And then you sense it: The Loathing of Carrots
...rows and rows of orangeness (with the leafy haircuts obviously) all turning their malevolent gazes towards you. Hating you. Resenting you. Contemptious of you. As you barge noisily into their field in a most disrespectful manner. Unmindful of their culture stroke society and feelings. It can be quite overwhelming, i can tell you. Grown men have been known to faint with fright and nausea at the waves of hatred bent upon them...
"But they're carrots!" i hear you exclaim. "And whoever heard of carrots with 'gazes' Phshaw!"
Ah, And. That. Is . My. Point. (I rest my case. Triumphantly). Thank-you, and goodnight.
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