It's been lonely here without Hugo. Quite lonely indeed. I sit and stare at the spot where he used to read his books (and by read his books i mean sit in a waterbottle) and I cry a little. BUT I know that he is getting the sunlight he so desperately needs upstairs, which is, as we all know, closer to the sun. He is looking quite "resplendent" these days, as his temporary caretaker described it. I have spent my moments as an emptynester cogitating on the potential that Hugo has, that he may someday produce the most delicious avocados we've ever tasted. I snapped this picture (not really...I found it on google) of a grown avocado tree, old and wise - look carefully and you can descry a sense of pride emanating from the emerald green leaves. But, faithful readers, do not fear. Our little avocado will soon return to his cubi-offi-cle, where he will be showered with gifts and affection.
In the meantime, Hugo sends word from upstairs that he thinks President Bush is a "nancy-pants potty-mouth" and should stop trying to use ethanol. President Bush was contacted by the O.A., but refused comment.
Stay tuned, as I hope to eventually be able to load pictures onto my crappy computer...
1 comment:
I must say, that while this interregnum in little Hugo's cubicle tenure will most certainly deepen his tan and nurture his chimerical revolutionarianism, his indulgence in favonian sunbeams may contribute to a moribund vocabulary. Might I suggest a bricolage of sorts, and provide little Hugo with a syllabus of avacodo-relevant caselaw located close to his sunlit window? Peharps then our erudite, Argus-eyed little hero's acuity will help him develop irenic suasions that will maintain his equinamity upon any further altercations with that opprobrious flibbertigibbet Ann Coulter.
P.S. that picture looks dirty.
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