Welcome Bumba!
Welcome all seekers of wisdom!

As you may have noticed in some of my previous posts, I have not been immune to the charisma of cement animal sculptures. They have cast me under their spell. I admit it. I am not perfect.
Like so many other lost souls and religious thrill seekers, I too had fallen prey to the enticements of these lifeless, hunks of cement. I relied on them. I had developed a perverse psychological dependency on their wisdom and guidance. All along I knew it was insane, this fascination, this obsession for the cement animal sculptures. No matter. I was lost.
Perhaps it was the simple wisdom and clear common sense of Franklin the Wise that captivated me so. In any case, I soon began to consort in the company of the cement animal sculptures. Yikes!!!

Before long I was conversing with them, sharing in their little jokes, basking in the glory of these wonderful creatures..er non-creatures. Never mind that they were lifeless, brainless, and lacking in any observable metabolism. Never mind that they were only sculptures, cement representations of animals already extinct for thousands of years. It didn’t matter. I was enchanted, entralled, hypnotized.
My downfall had begun.

Hi Bumba, old buddy!
Hi Bumba, old buddy!
What's up, Bumba baby?
What’s up, Bumba baby?

What was I to do? I had become one of them! We were on familiar terms. There was no doubt in my mind (Ha! what was left of my mind!) that it was not normal to associate with cement animal sculptures – be they ice-age facsimiles or modern-day replicas . I knew that I must escape from their clever banter, their devious lures and enticements. What was I to do?

I consulted Franklin. Franklin, oh great wise one! What advice can you give me?

Huh?
Huh?

Alas I had forgotten that Franklin, like all the other cement animal sculptures was inert, inorganic, and brainless.

I resemble that remark!
I resemble that remark!

To be continued….

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