Ramblings from a Canadian in Scotland
Logic might tend to dictate that a smurf would go all “Caucasian” on you if you took to strangling him in earnest. But then, I don’t know of any smurfs called Earnest and logic has never been a very close companion of mine in my many adventures. (Although, admittedly, most of my adventures were little more than tilting at emotional windmills.)But the question was about smurfs, wasn’t it? Yes. Of course it was. And, in truth, I have no idea what color the little, slippery bastards might turn if I could ever manage to get my hands around one of their scrawny necks. But I could make a fair guess at what color their innards might be if I could bring one under my pagan blade for even a moment.But I digress…my anger isn’t so much with smurfs, per se, it’s just that I know that, in the many modes of symbolism, any aberration of nature is a sign of evil and the damned smurfs are aberrant…no matter how you slice it. And I’ve always held the Secret Belief that blue skin is the surest sign of malignancy in the known Universe.But…enough of that rambling…So I’ll end with a question of my own:If a tree falls in the woods and there’s not a woman around to hear it, is it still a man’s fault?
That one is easy! Yes. Maybe it's not malignancy - maybe they are all just really cold.
Or maybe it's been a really, really, really, really long time sicne they got laid.
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