Finally…after months of a Pop-Tart-free diet…I caved.
What was the cause of demise? Multiple factors.
- Closure of the Pop-Tarts store in NYC.
- Halloween candy withdraw.
- Stress about the Ravens-Steelers game.
- Stress about being trapped in a wrecked car for days and starving to death.
That actually almost happened to a little girl. Do you know what probably saved her life (besides the seatbelt)?
True story. And that is why you should carry Pop-Tarts with you at all times. All times, people. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
You know what else made me give in to Pop-Tart consumption?
A new flavor Pop-Tart:
Baby Seal Sugar Cookie.
That’s right. I tore open my Pop-Tart to package only to be face-to-face with a baby seal…in a hat…waving at me.
Baby Seal: Hello! (Baby Seal sounds like Mr. Bill.)
Baby Seal: Why are you looking at me like that?
Me: Like what?
Baby Seal: Like that! Like you’re going to eat me.
Me: ::evil grin::
Baby Seal: NOOOOOOOOOO! I could be your new Pete!*
Me: Nice try, Baby Seal. But Pete was a penguin…and not made of delicious Pop-Tart. Nom Nom Nom.
*If you’re new around here, you’re probably thinking, Who the hell is Pete? Pete was a penguin Kiefer got me from Africa. Unfortunately, the original Pete the Penguin was eaten by a shark. But when I visited Tampa, I got to meet Petey Junior, aka RePete.
It’s no secret that I hate birds (except Pete). If you didn’t know that, read this post.
Did you read it? I don’t wanna see any comments below about how birds are really very nice creatures, blah blah blah. Because if birds were really nice, they wouldn’t be terrorizing me.
Plus birds keep pooing on my blog buddy, Izzie. You can say, “But birds pooing on you is good luck!” Bah! That’s just a myth spread by those dirty little birdies.
Anyways, as you read in last year’s post, the current score is Thoughts 2, Birds 8. The flippin’ birds are winning. Jerks.
However, up until now, the birds have had an advantage: They outnumber me.
But not anymore! Now I have a sidekick. More than a sidekick. I have a secret weapon.
A secret weapon that…
- Jumps 5 feet into the air.
- Is faster than a speeding bullet.
- Has claws of steel.
- Has a bird-killing instinct (well, kinda).
- Has cat-like reflexes.
To illustrate my point better, maybe I should have picked a pic where she wasn't napping.
In the past month, two birds have manuevered their way into Blarney and I’s basement. And Esme has caught both of them!
Look out birds, we’re coming for you.
Thoughts and Esme, 4. Birds, 8.
After the cruise, Kiefer and I wandered around Port of Tampa. You know what’s at the Port of Tampa?
Do you know what you can do at the Florida Aquarium?
PET A PENGUIN!
So that’s exactly what we did. I, Thoughtsie, touched a penguin. I also learned a lot about penguins, such as…
- Penguins have more feathers than any other bird.
- Penguins poop. A lot. Like every 10 minutes. (This almost made me change my mind about petting one.) And their poop can shoot up to 4 feet. No one is safe. No one.
Except for me. I was safe. I did not get pooped on.
Kiefer, on the other hand, was not so lucky.
Just kidding. Kiefer didn’t get pooped on either.
- Penguins are extremely affectionate. They prefer to eat their fish from the biologist’s hand.
- You know how cats purr when they’re happy? Penguins shudder. It looks like they’re having a seizure.
- Penguins sleep a lot. Sometimes they just fall over because they’re asleep.
We got to see about 10 or so penguins, but here’s the one we got to pet. He looks familiar, doesn’t he?
I’m sure it’s Pete. Don’t you see the resemblance?
- Pete the Penguin is ALIVE!
What do you think? Is it Pete or am I in denial?