I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death, and I feared no evil. I have journeyed to the farthest reaches of the Earth, through the most desolate of wastelands and the largest, most treacherous landscapes, and I have survived. I have scaled the tallest mountains, descended the deepest valleys, braved the greatest storms Mother Nature could conjure against me and lived to tell the tale – and I would do it all again. I have been to places it transpires fewer people than I first thought have ever been, and seen the most bountiful of treasures from each and every one. However, there are still conquests to be had in this world, and only recently have I encountered one of the rarest, finest treasures I have ever had the privelage to find.
Llamas. Only they’re not really llamas; they’re cheese flavoured crackers.
If the graceful fellow on the front of the packet is to be believed (and I have no reason to doubt him), then these crackers were not manufactured by petty human hands, but were in fact gifted to us by these most noble of creatures, perhaps as a peace offering, given in the hopes that our great civilizations can co-exist in peace.
However, on my travels, I have seen many a sign that our two seemingly separate worlds have been at one for some time, perhaps the best example of this being the Dial-A-Llama service.
Yes, for a nominal fee you can have a llama, an animal so majestic it has not one but two ‘l’s in its name, one of which is silent because screw your silly grammar rules, which suits your needs delivered directly to your door, for whatever purpose you may need a llama for. Finally, a service which gives me everything I need to fulfill my one true ambition in life; to dress up as Napolean Dynamite and hurl chunks of ham at helpless mammals.
I can’t think of a better way to spend an afternoon, anyway.
I’m not entirely sure where I’m going with this post. Have a llama.