Hi, peeps. As you have no doubt come to expect, I have more to tell in the ongoing Openfly tale. Dr. Don sent me a preliminary report based on only a couple of days of observing Openfly and the bonobo.
Unlike some of his other correspondence, I was able to understand this one. So, to save you time, I’ll encapsulate the report rather than reprint the whole excruciatingly long, boring document. (If this is only a preliminary report, we’re going to have to hijack more Internet bandwidth before he sends the full final report.)
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I love and worship Paahlm. Don’t you?
How could you not love Paahlm? After all, It created our majestic palm trees in Its image. It then commanded the palm trees to bear forth coconuts.
Paahlm, Glory be It, then sacrificed two of his precious coconuts to create the first humans. Since then, we have depended on Its munificent provision of coconuts to serve political, social, business and dietary purposes.
Most miraculous of all, Paahlm usually holds all of Its coconuts on our palm trees throughout numerous extreme gales until It clears the weather sufficiently for us to venture outside, hold our elections, and then collect the coconuts.
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The following notice is intended solely for citizens of Shalampax. If you’re not resident here, this will not interest you in the slightest, so you might as well leave now and find some other way to totally waste your time.
I apologize for not being a helpful time-waster for non-Shalampaxians today. It can’t be helped because I must use this space to deliver the following important message to our citizens. I promise that I’ll try harder in the future to be a better fritterer of your time.
Notice to Shalampaxians: Fire Alarm Test
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Gee peeps, it’s beginning to look as if I’m never again going to have time to report on anything but Openfly’s ongoing escapade. I wish I could convince one or two of the other bloggers here at Shalampax Speaks to pick up at least some of this story. Fat chance of that.
Oh well, here’s the latest scoop.
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There is something of a crisis shaping up in here Shalampax. We are running out of toilet paper. It would seem that Shalampaxians have recently been even crappier than usual. As a result, our shopkeeper was caught unawares by this situation.
A supply ship sitting about 150 kilometers off our shore is carrying, among other provisions, a large shipment of toilet paper. The ship’s captain is waiting for the weather to clear sufficiently for us to assemble one of our temporary docks. Our climate being what it is, that might be anywhere from a few days up to a few months from now.
Normally, we would risk building the dock in less than perfect weather. Unfortunately, we are also running short of the supplies required to build it. We only have enough to assemble one.
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Tonight at 8:30 in Theater G, Discardedshoelace, who is not known as an accomplished musician or an accomplished anything for that matter, will perform a concert. His chosen instrument is a battered harmonica that fell from a branch of one of our palm trees. It was washed up there from lands unknown by one of the monster waves that recently crashed over our high shores.
Bystanders claim that, despite his never having had a lesson or ever even having seen a harmonica before, Discardedshoelace was able to coax something that the bystanders vaguely described as a “sound” from the harmonica.
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