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The memory is somewhat blurred---like the memory of staring into the sun on a peyote fueled vision quest. A mixture of profound insight, nausea, and a Greek chorus of armadillos. Almost exactly like that, but with several extra "L"'s in the word "exactllllllly".
Of course, you are doubtful. Some of you doubt the very existence of Kurt. Some of you doubt my existence (sometimes, even I do). But such flippant frivolity is the earmark of a Scotch-knob. Look it up.
What is Kurt like? A gazelle. Yes--he is cautious, and graceful. Then, there is that wild ruminant aroma--the kind that draws the big cats, slinking through the undergrowth. Also, like a gazelle, he possesses a fine, generous spirit. The hooves complete the whole "like a gazelle" vibe.
More, true life Kurt-based experiences, coming soon. By "soon", I mean "when I bloody well feel like it, Sparky".
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6 comments:
as long as he doesn't walk on two legs and play a pipe... such wonderings of kurt warm the heart after so long a winter.
You sound more like yourself this post. Kurts influence has worn off some.
Kurt is fading from the bloggosphere. Maybe soon he really won't exist.
What on earth do armadillos sound like? I didn't even know they made a noise.
It's hard to be graceful on hoofs, I'm impressed.
Kurt is here. Kurt hears you.
An Anagram Of a gazeee is Laze Gel!
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