A message to my friends.
My love for you is komodo dragon love. It is the kind of love that you can only give when you happen to be a fourteen foot long lizard with toxic spit. That makes it very rare and kind of cool, but not if you happen to be afraid of lizards. Or if you have a problem with toxic spit. But because my love for you is komodo dragon love, you are not on my list of things to bite. Be glad.
Komodo dragons are co-operative hunters. That means that when a komodo dragon sees a goat, he bites it with his sharp teeth and fills the wound with toxic spit, and then goes back to doing whatever it is he happened to be doing before the goat came along. Komodo dragon things, like reading, or playing with Photoshop, or watching lousy horror movies, or unleashing the pandemic. Or maybe just basking in the sun and frightening small children by being fourteen feet long, full of toxic spit, and capable of eating people, if you want to be literal about things. I'm good either way. And see, the goat? The goat is now full of toxic spit, and that doesn't work out too well from his point of view, because eventually he sort of falls over and dies. Since the toxic spit is full of bacteria, the goat starts doing that decaying thing. And then another komodo dragon comes along and finds the dead goat, and it's hey, free lunch. And that? That is how I feel about you. I totally spend my days biting goats, because I know that even if I don't eventually get to eat their decaying carcasses, someone that I love will get a meal out of it.
Only they aren't real goats. And nothing really dies. And if you actually eat my metaphorical goats, you're probably going to need to take some multivitamins or something, too, because man cannot live by metaphorical goat alone, and besides, you'd probably get scurvy if you tried. But the basic concept is there. I spend my days biting goats for you.
My love for you is komodo dragon love.
Crunch.
(If you think you recognize this, you're right; I posted a version in 2005. The sentiment is just as true today as it was then.)
Komodo dragons are co-operative hunters. That means that when a komodo dragon sees a goat, he bites it with his sharp teeth and fills the wound with toxic spit, and then goes back to doing whatever it is he happened to be doing before the goat came along. Komodo dragon things, like reading, or playing with Photoshop, or watching lousy horror movies, or unleashing the pandemic. Or maybe just basking in the sun and frightening small children by being fourteen feet long, full of toxic spit, and capable of eating people, if you want to be literal about things. I'm good either way. And see, the goat? The goat is now full of toxic spit, and that doesn't work out too well from his point of view, because eventually he sort of falls over and dies. Since the toxic spit is full of bacteria, the goat starts doing that decaying thing. And then another komodo dragon comes along and finds the dead goat, and it's hey, free lunch. And that? That is how I feel about you. I totally spend my days biting goats, because I know that even if I don't eventually get to eat their decaying carcasses, someone that I love will get a meal out of it.
Only they aren't real goats. And nothing really dies. And if you actually eat my metaphorical goats, you're probably going to need to take some multivitamins or something, too, because man cannot live by metaphorical goat alone, and besides, you'd probably get scurvy if you tried. But the basic concept is there. I spend my days biting goats for you.
My love for you is komodo dragon love.
Crunch.
(If you think you recognize this, you're right; I posted a version in 2005. The sentiment is just as true today as it was then.)