I recently went on a road trip all over Arizona (note to self: don't ever go to Arizona in the summer again! Any other time is fine, unless you have an uncontrolable urge to watch your skin bubble and boil in front of your own eyes.) and met the sweetest, cutest, most charismatic little dood! His name was Hokey. I called him Nelson*.
He was a full grown miniture llama.
Nelson loved it when you blew up his nose. Since I was just the right height for him, he could rest his head on my chest while I leaned back a bit and blew up his nose as hard as I could. At that point his lips would flare back and he'd walk closer. Of course, I'd have to scoot backwards. Eventually, if I had blown up his nose long enough, Nelson's eyes would glaze over. Then, the nose-blowing would be interrupted and the cycle would repeat.
I want a Nelson!!
You may think that this only makes me happy, and doesn't bug me at all, ("so, why is Patch writing this here?") but, in fact, it belongs. What bugs me is that I can't have a Nelson!!!
*I called him Nelson after the character from the Simpsons.
