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Talking To Llamas

by Terrye

My best friend, Myral, is a llama. Ok, not a gangly, wooly, lick your forehead kinda llama (although, on a dare, she’d probably lick you). I nicknamed her ‘llama’ a couple of years ago when she was telling me about a particularly weird night at Mandalay Bay where she worked as an Usher Extraordinaire for the wonderful production of “Mama Mia.” If you wanna have some fun and endear yourself to her for all eternity, sing an ABBA song to her. Trust me, it’ll be an epic experience you’ll never forget.

Yes, she goes out like this.

During intermission, it wasn’t unusual for guests to approach her with off the wall questions like “Can you tell me where the restrooms are?” as she’s standing under the RESTROOMS sign.To amuse herself and keep from mangling these lovely people, Myral would respond to their questions with completely off the wall answers that would daze and confuse the walking, talking, bubble gum chewing, brainiacs. Her favorite answer was, “I like llamas.” Just imaging the stupefied look on their faces would cause me to giggle.

We’ve been friends for over 10 years and I never get tired of having conversations with her. It’s a lot like walking into a Walmart blindfolded with a shopping list from your great-great-great-aunt Gertrude twice removed and trying to get everything she wrote down. You just never know what yer gonna grab a handful of; it might be a cantaloupe or it could be the ass cheek of a recently released sheep molester picking up a new wardrobe for his coming out party.

The other night, I was in a funk after another blogger threw a couple of snarky remarks my way. Instead of ripping the head off of the other person, I vented to llama. Once I felt better, I told her how much I really enjoyed having her as a friend.

Terrye: I love you because you aren’t afraid to be YOU around me.

Myral: I tried being someone else but I got arrested and flogged. Besides I’m good at being me. Personally I love you because you have a Kung Fu action grip and can make tuna casserole, for starters.

Terrye: We are soul maties

Myral: Arrrrg!

Terrye: LOL yer my pirate parrot!

Myral: Am I a colorful parrot?

Myral makes them look boring.

Terrye: You are more colorful than a gay pride fest!

Myral: I hurt today. I feel 50. WTF is up with that?

Terrye: I feel 50 every other day.

Myral: Lol! I’m almost convinced I’m having a heart attack. But it’s just me being overweight. It’s a heart attack. Making me laugh doesn’t help. I’m almost convinced being your friend means dying young and of laughter.

Terrye: Does your left ass cheek feel sore?

Myral: No. Does that mean I’ll live?

Terrye: Ok, good. Then it’s not assitosses. You’ll live for at least another second.

Myral: Sounds like something one would catch form an exotic plant. Lmao.

Terrye: And yer too young to have a heart attack.

Here’s yer pickle!

Myral: Oh good! I was counting on that second.

Terrye: An exotic plant with a slimy ass.

Myral: I’m 35. It’s the perfect age for a heart attack! You’re supposed to encourage my dreams!

Terrye: Yer dream is to die young because I made you laugh?

Myral: I have no idea how we end up in these conversations. I’m laughing my ass off over here. Yes and to die eating a pickle. I think that would be hilarious.

Terrye: lmao! We need our own radio show.

Myral: We would make people crash. So yes, we do! Ole!

This is a prime example of why having a llama as my best friend is one of the wisest thing I’ve done in all of my off kilter life. And you can’t have her; you’ll have to find your own BFF (beautiful fluffy friend).

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