whales towels

There is just something fine about the way that ice is comparable to slime. I mean, isn’t it? Suppose an infinite plane and assume that its adiabatic. Now assume a frictional rubber disk, about, almost, but not, four inches in diameter and more than one inches in thickness and it weighs six or so ounces. If the plane was slime or ice, the results would be the same. I would be there and you would be at home. You would be at home because its cold and not sunny at the plane and also the plane is concealed by walls. Also, there is no water to drink or sandwiches to eat.

When I get home, I think I want a bath. I’ve been thinking since yesterday about what I will have for dinner and how good the bath will be. But unfortunately, there is a crop of leprosy creeping up my ankle, so I’m not sure about anything these days. I’m sure about jesus though.

Bright sunshine is sure most the fatal clue, so the French say. Letters of blood pool up just under the skin and start taking bribes. In the summer time, I pay a lot for lying around and sleeping outside on the dock, facedown, ears shut to the seagull plaintiffs, my lawyer taking council in the nest of rocks. We have the jury bought and later, they will be hung by their necks or neckish areas. Whales, (and dolphins) are the most despicable of the jury owing to a complete lack of neck. Look back on it, and I guarantee you will be disgusted.

Mostly, the opinion is that Melville was some allegorical genius. But I will have it known, that the most obvious and absolutely true conclusion is that he just had it out for Whales, those fishy ugly monsters of the sea. Simply put, folks, Melville has spun the best fishing yarn that is out there. That one that got away. God, are we really supposed to believe that crap he was talking about? Of course it had to be a white whale or something so good to put on the dinner table for a poor family of four. And it got away!

One time I almost caught this green bowfin. My, it was ugly and green. Its head was this big and the teeth on that thing could have been hypodermic needles if hypodermic needles where jackhammers with razor blades welded on the end. I sat all day in a frenzy of red eyes and yellow teeth waiting for that fish to come and try to bite the squirrel I had baited on a big brass hook. Guess what? The line snapped and my boat sank and I floated away on a coffin that looked like a seat. About an hour later, the coasties picked me up and asked where my registration was. See, they thought the coffin was a boat! ACTUALLY, it was, still is too, a seat. So there.

The only reason that I’m not acclaimed as that partridge-in-a-pear-tree Melville is because my fish was of the common clay, a mere bowfin. What was the moral in that, you might ask. Well the moral is that I am telling the honest and pure honey of truth. Where as, Melvile was telling a big dirtydog of lie. Even then, there is a grain of truth to it all.