The Only Good Llama

One of my meditation routines is to try to relax, contort myself in a sacrilegious way – called "The Perineum Tickler" - and come up with an appropriate conclusion to the meditation mantra, “The only good llama is…”

I can puzzle over this for hours.  I can puzzle over this until my perineum is sore.  So far, my best conclusions are: “…one spit-roasted and served over a bed of greens with steak fries.”  I also like “…one with its skull cleaned out and placed on the head of a staff as I stand over a pit of bleating, terrified llamas and ask them to slather the ointment on their skin or else they get the hose again.”

Admittedly, neither is real catchy.  That’s why it’s a good meditation mantra.   There’s no bad answer (as long as the llama ends up dead.)  But then I see this uplifting story of a llama given a prosthetic leg so that it could walk again.  T' hell?

Do you know how many hours I’ve spent devising this animals destruction to then have to suffer this “feel good” story?  The same people that made the prosthetic tail for Winter the dolphin (as seen in Dolphin Tale movie) are behind this.  Here I thought they were the good guys.   What do you call a llama with only three legs?  A good start. Or 3/4ths of a waste of space but getting better.  Or, one dinner down, three to go.  I imagine llama meat is very succulent and lean.  I hear their cold, dead black eyes taste like cherries.  Why aren’t we eating these animals?  Why aren’t we using their long necks for a line of llama neck bed lamps?  And what’s the deal with those necks?  It’s like a llama is a glued together donkey body on a half giraffe neck.  They should be called a Halfraffekey.

At the very least, let’s stop fitting them with cheetah striped fake limbs so they can walk again and continue their menacing existence.  We don't do that for a half smushed cockroach.

Next thing you know, the filthy beasts will want to run and race.  What do you do with a llama with a prosthetic limb?  It’ll be like Oscar Pistorius all over again.  Can he run in the regular Llamalympics or will he have to go in the Parallamalympics?*

No cheetah stripes.  A shame.

I might just be a little ornery today.  Due to a busy schedule and other personal reasons (possibly related to my meditation pose), I’ve been unable to run for 12 days.  It feels like 12 years.  I feel like I should be on The Biggest Loser.  It’s the longest non-running streak I’ve been on in over 6 years.  It’ll all come to an end tomorrow as I’ll be able to hit the road for several miles but, man, it’s been tough.  And then to see the whole MIRACLE WALKING LLAMA thing…

In the meantime, I’ve come up with an exciting and delicious recipe for roasted llama souls to share with you.  Best served with a fruity cabernet. 

1. Kill 15 llamas and harvest their souls.
2. Drink a fruity cabernet.

Feel free to use “The only good llama…” as a starter for your own meditation mantra.  Be careful, don’t get lost in the double ll’s – presumptuous beast, ohhh, I need TWO L’s in MY name because One.Won't. Do. – and split open your perineum.  You’ll be (theoretically) on the shelf for 12 days.

If the Hangar Clinic isn’t too busy working with the wonderful, can-do-no-wrong llamas, it'd be nice if they could come up with a prosthetic human perineum.  Don’t want to bother them with all of their useful and important llama work though.

Your turn.  Get into The Perineum Tickler and consider:  The Only Good Llama is….(fill in the rest)

KummerLama.

Happy trails.

* Admit it, that was fun to say. 

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Based on the poll results so far from my last post, the leader seems to be concern for my lack of fixing the lattice fencing pieces.  You would think that, with 12 days away from running, I’d get that done.  You’d be wrong.  And I see many of you are bashful about calling yourself a "race-ist"...at least in the comments.  Don't worry, I know who you are.  And, Danny, don't worry, I can't possibly drive any more readers from this blog.
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Happy Birthday dear Nitwife!