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Hey Kid-
It's Horatio, just in case you didn't pick up on the code. Just FYI, I'm here in Korea. You were correct. This place smells like a full can of open sardines rotting in the summer sun. As a shark, I'm not really accustomed to that stench, but I suppose I can get used to it.
I "met" Albert and the Sandhill Crane. They refuse to let me into your room. They keep cracking the door and saying, "Who GOES there?" When I tell them, "Horatio," they answer, "Password, Por Favor." (Apparently, they think I was named after a Spanish conquistador....ignorant fools! Someone missed the lesson on Horatio Hornblower.)
What's this password they're talking about? You obviously forgot to fill me in on that critical bit of information before I left. Cripes. Apparently, it's less obvious than your blog password. Kid, you need to beef up security.
Albert told me that I am obviously an aquatic animal and therefore belong in the bathroom. So, last night, I slept in the bathtub.
Also, you don't have much food around here. Actually, there's nothing. I suspect Albert and those folks are hoarding it. In fact, I heard them crunching on Cheetohs last night. Your Mom left some Panko crumbs in the pantry. So, I snacked on those while trying to hack into your blog.
By the way, you know that Flamboyant Flamingo who hangs out with the pheasant ladies? Well, I'm just warning you. If I get really hungry, he's the first to go. That dude is the definition of annoying. Is he French? Seeing as how my parents were German, I hope you don't expect the two of us to get along. Can nicht be donesky.
Well, I'm going to get back to watching these AFN commercials. They're so dumb that they're entertaining. People get paid to put these together? Interestingly, your Flamboyant Flamingo friend decided to join me in watching tv. What's with him? He needs a lesson in shark tactics.
Starving Shark,
Horatio
It's Horatio, just in case you didn't pick up on the code. Just FYI, I'm here in Korea. You were correct. This place smells like a full can of open sardines rotting in the summer sun. As a shark, I'm not really accustomed to that stench, but I suppose I can get used to it.
I "met" Albert and the Sandhill Crane. They refuse to let me into your room. They keep cracking the door and saying, "Who GOES there?" When I tell them, "Horatio," they answer, "Password, Por Favor." (Apparently, they think I was named after a Spanish conquistador....ignorant fools! Someone missed the lesson on Horatio Hornblower.)
What's this password they're talking about? You obviously forgot to fill me in on that critical bit of information before I left. Cripes. Apparently, it's less obvious than your blog password. Kid, you need to beef up security.
Albert told me that I am obviously an aquatic animal and therefore belong in the bathroom. So, last night, I slept in the bathtub.
Also, you don't have much food around here. Actually, there's nothing. I suspect Albert and those folks are hoarding it. In fact, I heard them crunching on Cheetohs last night. Your Mom left some Panko crumbs in the pantry. So, I snacked on those while trying to hack into your blog.
By the way, you know that Flamboyant Flamingo who hangs out with the pheasant ladies? Well, I'm just warning you. If I get really hungry, he's the first to go. That dude is the definition of annoying. Is he French? Seeing as how my parents were German, I hope you don't expect the two of us to get along. Can nicht be donesky.
Well, I'm going to get back to watching these AFN commercials. They're so dumb that they're entertaining. People get paid to put these together? Interestingly, your Flamboyant Flamingo friend decided to join me in watching tv. What's with him? He needs a lesson in shark tactics.
Starving Shark,
Horatio
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