Monday, April 27, 2009


Jake was a cold-blooded snake who never tried to mate a female of his kind. He could never find a snake that gave him an ache in his heart for that is where love affairs usually start. His blood ran cold, I am told, because that was the reptile style of the breed.

Thus, he never believed he needed a lady snake to take him in her arms and introduce him to the charms of wicked complex sex. The fact that neither he nor she had arms was a complication of the situation. This was true of snakes, worms and wiggly sperms that squirm between the legs (snakes have not got) to meet and mate with eggs.

I mention Jake's blood ran cold. I failed to add sex had naught to do with his urge not to merge. But a roll in the desert sand at 250 degrees in the shade made the passionate feeling less appealing.

Then Jake met Murtle the Turtle who lived quite well in a beautiful shell. She had four legs, two for walking, two for hugging. She didn't mind lugging her shell home around. Jake moved in and a love affair began.

Living was tight but it was right and they found room for loving every night. After a while a little turtanake was born. It had its mother's shell, but was growing longer like its slinking dad. They had room enough for a large family. Some were turtles just like Murtle, others just like Jake and, in between, tikes with shapes or shells the likes of which you've never seen.

They lived together happily in Murtle's shell rent free. Jake passed away at four hundred three. Murtle lived to see the twenty second century. How many offspring did they sire or inspire? The amount kept mounting. They stopped counting af a million three, give or take, according to Jake the Snake.


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