Operation Baggage Claim
Everyone keeps asking me if the Flamboyant Flamingo actually won the all-expenses-paid trip to the US of A, and yes, he "won" it. The more appropriate question would be, "Does the Flamboyant Flamingo get to go to the US of A?" The answer to that one: "Not if I can help it!"
I don't think I need to explain why I have no desire to take him. Read the previous blog entries, and you'd be shipping him to Timbuktu and "checking" the "treat as abandoned" box on the customs form too.
Well, I've been trying to figure out a way to get him to stay here. I tried telling him that his pheasant girlfriends are going to miss him. I tried many things.
About a day ago, I was helping Mom get the suitcases out of storage. As she was throwing a few items into the big one, I noticed the Flamboyant Flamingo was checking out the bag. I could tell he was reserving a spot. Suddenly, I muttered to myself, "Man, I REALLY hope they don't lose our luggage." Flamingo immediately stopped rooting around in my stuff. His long neck stiffened, and his little eyes bulged.
Then, I quickly added, "Sorry, man, I didn't mean to scare you. Don't worry. It doesn't happen often. I'm pretty sure they won't get the Los Angeles tag mixed up with Pyongyang. But, you know, are Korean luggage tags in Korean or English? I'm pretty sure that they're in English, and I'm pretty sure baggage handlers weren't the sharpest pencils in the box. Otherwise, they wouldn't be doing that job. So, wow, I hope they can make the distinction between Pyongyang and Los Angeles. Really, all Korean words look the same to me. So, I bet they think the same thing about 'Engrish.'"
By this time, Flamingo had turned hot pink, "But, Jack, I think this means you should put me in your carry-on."
I looked saddened, "Sorry, Amigo. Mom said we only have room in the suitcase. She needs space for my diapers, wipes, snacks, cars, Desitin.....[long list of other items]."
By this time, Flamingo was flipping out, "Jack, there is no way I can get in that bag unless you guarantee that I'll not be living out my days in some North Korean gulag."
I put another sad face on, "Sorry, dude. I wish I could. But, hey, you're a leftist. I'm pretty sure Dear Leader will have compassion and only send you to the gulag for five years instead of an eternity. They'll probably give you a cush job in a coal mine. Don't worry 'bout it. Coal miner's lung can't be that bad of a way to die."
By this time, Flamingo had left the room. I thought I had actually convinced him not to go. Brilliant!!
Unfortunately, he just complicated matters. He told Locke, Albert, Mountbatten, Pete, and the Sandhill Crane about "losing luggage." So, now, nobody wants to go, and they're fighting over who will have to go. They keep telling the Flamingo to "take one for the team." Thankfully, he's a selfish bird and doesn't quite understand "sacrifice."
Ugh...not what I needed. I think Mom might have to step in and negotiate terms with these doofuses.
I don't think I need to explain why I have no desire to take him. Read the previous blog entries, and you'd be shipping him to Timbuktu and "checking" the "treat as abandoned" box on the customs form too.
Well, I've been trying to figure out a way to get him to stay here. I tried telling him that his pheasant girlfriends are going to miss him. I tried many things.
About a day ago, I was helping Mom get the suitcases out of storage. As she was throwing a few items into the big one, I noticed the Flamboyant Flamingo was checking out the bag. I could tell he was reserving a spot. Suddenly, I muttered to myself, "Man, I REALLY hope they don't lose our luggage." Flamingo immediately stopped rooting around in my stuff. His long neck stiffened, and his little eyes bulged.
Then, I quickly added, "Sorry, man, I didn't mean to scare you. Don't worry. It doesn't happen often. I'm pretty sure they won't get the Los Angeles tag mixed up with Pyongyang. But, you know, are Korean luggage tags in Korean or English? I'm pretty sure that they're in English, and I'm pretty sure baggage handlers weren't the sharpest pencils in the box. Otherwise, they wouldn't be doing that job. So, wow, I hope they can make the distinction between Pyongyang and Los Angeles. Really, all Korean words look the same to me. So, I bet they think the same thing about 'Engrish.'"
By this time, Flamingo had turned hot pink, "But, Jack, I think this means you should put me in your carry-on."
I looked saddened, "Sorry, Amigo. Mom said we only have room in the suitcase. She needs space for my diapers, wipes, snacks, cars, Desitin.....[long list of other items]."
By this time, Flamingo was flipping out, "Jack, there is no way I can get in that bag unless you guarantee that I'll not be living out my days in some North Korean gulag."
I put another sad face on, "Sorry, dude. I wish I could. But, hey, you're a leftist. I'm pretty sure Dear Leader will have compassion and only send you to the gulag for five years instead of an eternity. They'll probably give you a cush job in a coal mine. Don't worry 'bout it. Coal miner's lung can't be that bad of a way to die."
By this time, Flamingo had left the room. I thought I had actually convinced him not to go. Brilliant!!
Unfortunately, he just complicated matters. He told Locke, Albert, Mountbatten, Pete, and the Sandhill Crane about "losing luggage." So, now, nobody wants to go, and they're fighting over who will have to go. They keep telling the Flamingo to "take one for the team." Thankfully, he's a selfish bird and doesn't quite understand "sacrifice."
Ugh...not what I needed. I think Mom might have to step in and negotiate terms with these doofuses.
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