OK guys; let’s say you’re visiting your uncle Barnabus’ lemur ranch in northern Wyoming. The little monkeys are swinging through the cargo (…cargo, carrgo, carrrgo, cicargo, pirate c-Aaaarrrggh-o), nets your Uncle B has strung up in the lodge pole pines and scarfing mangos by the basketful. None of them are flinging feces. Suddenly, the Swedish bikini team parachutes in with 4 coolers filled with frozen oranges. One produces a 3-inch trench mortar(mkII) and a small team of bikini-clad warriors begins shelling Montana with frozen citrus!! The Lemurs, really Taliban agents in disguise, break cover and begin a contra-offensive against the Swedes, disabling several and dressing them in black robes which look, oddly, sexier than the bikinis!
Meanwhile, Uncle Barnabus strolls up to you and hands you a Bud Light bottle filled with lime Kool-aid and says something like, “Eels. It’s all about the eels when the fork is in the socket.”
Over here, we call that every other Tuesday – but substitute monkeys for marmosets and lemurs for colour commentators. And it’s in West Chesterfuck, ON. And we’re shelling Ben Mulroney’s house. With badgers. And the colour commentators aren’t contra agents in disguise. They’re just colour commentators. Although they do have really loud ties. And my uncle’s name is Rheostat. (It’s a long story)
Avast! (heh…always wanted to say that when it’s not International Talk Like A Pirate Day) What skullduggery is this? Now that would indeed be great, but yet woll it be greater not if the colour comentators wore loud marmosets, thereby allowing us to hear their call! (the call of the marmosets, that is, for even in Wyoming it is known that colour comentators chall lulu! Foregoing the forage rangers, have they Niwot in Manitoba this time of malankey bit? Because that would be great and chill!
