Well, the armadillo and I are actually kinda busy just now—he’s helping me test out my new “robe of invisibility,” something I made by weaving into simple cotton fiber nanobots programmed to act as millions of rapidly revolving micro-mirrors, creating an “illusion” of empty space—but I suppose he could do both things at once…
Okay. Here you go:
Your desperation for an instalanche is showing.
LOOK AT THAT LITTLE CRITTER DO THE HUSTLE, WOULDYA?
You dirty fucker!
Somewhere, Glenn Reynolds has a hard-on….
I wouldn’t be bragging on that ‘dillo too much – I can smell his feet from here, man. Don’t you ever run him through the car wash in the bed of your pickup, Jeff ? That’s some pretty poor pet maintenance – I might hafta call PETA and get him, you know, adopted.
That’s right, punk: small, umarked bills, just like with the monkey.
Damn it.
If you squint really, really hard … you can just make out the taps on his shoes.
THE EMPEROR HAS NO CLOTHES!!
(I’ve always wanted to say that. Thanks.)
I SEE HIM. Oops. no. It’s just a bug on my monitor. Nevermind.
I want to know how Goldstein taught him to do the mazurka like that. Wow!
Me too. Most armadillos know the correct way to do the mazurka and wouldn’t have been fooled.
Oh wow! Now he’s doing a dance called the Rorshach.
I’m only seeing a gyrating Harry Belafonte. Please make it stop. Thank you.
’Bout friggin TIME people!
.
..
…
Now dance for daddy…
I’m still a bit stumped. Not sure what to do with this. Hmmmm….
You know what happens to those who dance with Armadillos …..
There’s nothing there, Goldstein. Just what kind of nut and shell game are you playing with these people?
He’s coasting, is what kind of game he’s playing. The nerve of him, shamelessly recycling that white critter in a snowdrift picture like this…!
The mirrors are making me dizzy. And these pretzels are making me thirsty.
Shine colored lights on that critter and let’s all DISCO!
I fell pretty dumb. I moved my mouse around in the white area, checked the “Load images for the originating site only” in my browser, highlighted to whole post and then got frustrated and closed the window. Then I came back this afternoon and repeated this. Now I get it. There’s nothing there.
Damn! Even Ray Charles can see dat shit!
jr is my kinda people.
Good news, folks. After some last-minute haggling over car wash fees, the armadillo has been returned; safe, sound, and shiny. The brave little guy is determined to resume his dancing duties next week. And just for the record, I had no idea how quickly armadillos become addicted to Carnauba Hot Waxâ„¢.
SB: report, as in “This has been an unofficial CITIZEN JOURNALIST report”.
The real reason for the robe.