11.4.09

Rhino on T-Shirt

At dinner last night, I was telling Damian about the previous post. The rhino tusk one. 

I told him that I'd had a rethink on the matter. It seemed a shame to kill the rhino just for the tusks. I mean, no way is anyone going to eat the big ugly brute. But, obviously, we do definately need the tusks. To shave over food as an aphrodesiac. We wondered if there was any way the rhino could do without the tusks or perhaps they would even grow back. Nobody at the table really knew but it was an interesting conversation anyway.

"You're fucking obsessed with rhinos mate", he told me.
"No I'm not", I said.
"You fucking are", he said, pointing at my t-shirt.
"What you talking about?", I asked.
"Your fucking t-shirt", he said. "Even that's got a fucking rhino on it".
"No it hasn't".
"It fucking has, numbnuts", he said, laughing cruely.

I looked down. He was right. It did have a rhino. Right in the middle. I'd never noticed.


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