Blob of my heart

By Tiber

Here I am, jobless, rudderless and relationshipless. Of course, eventually I’ll get another job and a rudder I can buy – but the right relationship? Some people never find one. More and more I’m thinking I could end up being that one single old geezer of the future bitterly ordering his “jetpack for one.”

To stop going further down that depressing road and to make myself feel at least a little better, I started reading an article about what were called the most revolting-looking creatures to live in the ocean. That seemed a little harsh, until I got into the article and saw that, no, that actually was pretty factual.

There are seapigs, who look less like pigs, who I actually sort of like, and more like over-inflated condoms with creepily trotting little feet. Plus, they don’t roll in the mud, which is fine. They eat it.

Next, there were hagfish, considered particularly hideous because they produce their own slime. For what?!? A gift? Hair gel? A rainy day? They’re already under water!

Last up were the blobfish, who truly could not be better named. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were really just doughy pieces that had fallen off some other creature who had gratefully evolved in a higher direction.

The article never made me feel better, though. Even while cringing at the sight of these guys, all I kept thinking was that each and every one of them, in normal ways or weird ones, is still having a relationship – right now. They’re all swimming around down there, and with no effort whatsoever, in their own ways,  they’re pigging and hagging and blobbing bigtime.

And for the far more civilized and attractive me? What’s the only thing I’ll be getting tonight? Pie. And that’s only if Dad and all of the seapigs I’m related to don’t spot the pie first.


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