Elephants?
I piss on them.
I once indian arm/trunk wrestled a herd leader to establish who was going to be capo de capo, a right old cow she was but I showed her who was boss by tying her trunk into a knot(A double bowline as I recall)
I never had a problem with hippos either after I removed an infected incisor from a suffering bull,I used two five kilo bales of Zambian Herbal for anasthetic which certainly did the job,he was out for three days but was fine when he came to.
After that the hippos all loved me,the bull asked me to become godfather of his first born and indeed I had many offers to actually adopt various calves,an offer I declined because changing a hippo calfs nappy/diaper is a fucking nightmare
I was also given the offer to take any virgin cow on the river as my bride,I picked one out but she turned out to be an American missionary and as such was not included in the offer.
Of course it helped that I could speak the language of the animals,though strangely only after I’d been hammering the Zambian Herbal.
I often had long interesting conversations with the local wild life and I can honestly attest to the wisdom of nature,an african ground squirrel predicted our present economic crash five,fucking months ago!
A little bit more impressive then the so called financial expertise I encounterd on returning to England !
Why next doors Border Collie only precicted it two weeks before it happened.
Yes they were good times back out there,it goes against my natural modesty to tell you this but the animals used to regard me as a god.
Much against my protestations they got together and built me a little temple out of the husks of Macedamia nuts,it was so sweet watching their little paws painstakingly put the husks together and bit by bit make a ten time life size statue of me made out of solidified baboon saliva.
I was totally astonished though when I saw a giraffe operating a Hilti Hammer drill!
Because I thought that the Makita franchise had cornered the market locally for power tools.
It was a fantastic sight also seeing them gather round every day to pray to me,their name for me was Ungomoggggggadoooooooobabababinchkweoingslap ididdletitimusgrovia,which tended to shorten the length of their prayers a bit because by the time they’d said hello to me it was time to fuck off home.
This could on occassion be a source of great frustration when I was left musing over unfinished appeals made for my consideration .
Oh great god(then my name) please help me remove this slimy,purple and green fungal parasite that is growing up my…fuck me is that the time ?
Sorry your godness I’ve got to get back now the missus is doing Wildebeest and she said that she’d keep it alive until I got there…
Leaving muggins here wondering what the the fuck it was growing up.
His porch?
His bedroom door?
His arsehole?
And the next day I’d try to ask what is was about and get fobbed off with “oh thats not important now,or I’ll tell you in a minute but first…”
I never did get to find out.
In Swahili their name for me meant Strange,vacantly staring, ugly bastard Englishman with incredibly small penis but got quite a nice smile though .
Like I say that was what my name meant in Swahili but what it meant in their language I have no fucking idea…
My time in Africa, happy though it was came to an end when I was deported under some obscure mental health act.
And anyway I cant sit here chatting to you guys all day,my neighbour, a little old lady, sweet old duck she is,normally has her afternoon nap around this time so for me its snare drum practice time …
Because I hate all old people or any one called Maurice,or tattoos depicting an angry sheep playing the banjo…or…
I think that I’ll have a little lie down first.
Being serious for once I’ve got some work to do and I’m trying to put it off by pissing about,can you tell?