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Here are some pictures I have taken.
| Down in the Bayou Jama-Iki [Disclaimer: The Dave in this story is no way connected to the myriad of Daves on NuTang.com, beside the fact that they all have the same name] A long time ago, in the Deep South of America, lived a man named Dave. He lived in a small hut on a bayou of Louisiana. Dave felt unhappy with his life, as he did not fit in. He was not a redneck, a bigot, or a Cajun. Instead, he was a Guatemalan sumo wrestler. On the weekends, he volunteered for the local community Citizens Observer Patrol program. Although his fellow volunteers cajoled him with false promises that the work would give him a paycheck, Dave continued volunteering for his loving community. One night, while learning to play a banjo on the front stoop of his hut, he was approached by a shady character. Cloaked in the shadows of night, the person gave a candid speech about trying to live life in the bayou. “Even if you try to live like a normal primate, the alligators and mosquitos still treat you like a canine.” Amazed by the obvious sense of wisdom inherent in the man’s words, Dave asked who the mysterious character was. Papagoya stepped forth into the light. Being an idol of Dave’s, the presence of the famous and celebrated folk hero Papagoya threw Dave into a seizure. Papagoya used one of his ancient baboon medical techniques and cured Dave with no problem. “Forget not the story of Dr. Mushroom!” shouted Papagoya, as he leapt away quickly. Dave, however, was still having the seizure, and thought to himself that Papagoya was obviously a charlatan. After his astonishing recovery, Dave decided to take a capricious turn with his life. Dave lost 600 pounds, and threw in the towel and his sumo thong. Dave knew that if he was going to get anywhere in his life, he’d have to become a freelance rice patty worker. He knew just where to go. When Dave was on the train to South Carolina, his immense hunger got he best of him. He devoured a baby hairy protista, which everyone knows is a bad idea. The hairy protistas not only give you indigestion, but they secrete a poisonous, gelatinous, flammable chemical which is only known to scientists as custard pie. The train was immediately evacuated. People were jumping from car to car, running on the roof, and somersaulting down the aisles while Dave sat silently and observed the chaos. “Hey now! Simmer down now!” Dave castigated. “You need not fear; The Great Papagoya has endowed me with immortality with the touch of his hand.” With that, Dave passed out and never awoke. “Now what is the moral of this story?” Papagoya asked his apostles. “Never touch Papagoya or you die!” said Tapahikizaoya in an overly caustic voice. Papagoya then burned the insignia of the Spider Clan into Tapahikizaoya’s clavicle using his laser eyes, chastising the weakened baboon. “Does anyone else want to venture a guess at the moral of the story?” asked Papagoya in an intimidating voice. After a few minutes of silent contemplation, a meteorite made of fried cottage cheese careened off of a nearby water-buffalo tribute statue and exploded near Yousafi Village located on the Island of Ishbu, where Papagoya often relates his philosophical views to young, aspiring baboons. Never again was there a shortage of fried cottage cheese in Yousafi Village, and never again could the horrible smell be removed from the water-buffalo tribute statue. 5 Comments. wow thanks for making me laugh at work
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