Dare to Dream!

WARNING! This post is not for the faint-of-heart.

Remember, you have been warned.

No, really - venture no further. The words that follow lie well-beyond that great unknown expanse labelled on the ancient maps: "There be monsters..."

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Don't say I didn't warn you.

Proceed at your own risk.

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I've reached that time of life when men finally realize that they may never accomplish all the things they vowed in their impetuous youth.

For instance, I'm certain that every man, at one time or another, has promised himself that he would one day find himself captain of a fearsome band of Portuguese chipmunks, laughing his enemies to scorn.

Ah, the man who leads a band of Portuguese chipmunks! What can he not accomplish? What will the world hold back from his grasp?

On the slightest of whims he might reign uncontested as King of all Puddlegluppis. And the whole of Tobaccisnortica, from the steppes of Spittoonia to the shores of the Cuspidorian Sea, would tremble uncontrollably at the mere mention of his hair-color.

Oh, and doubt not that he could adorn himself in the finest faux polyester from Faraway Bango-Bango. And his crown! Who would dare embellish its magnificence with anything less than that scarcest of all gemstones - the Great Big Glittery Thingy?

Have we not all dared this dream? What man among us can honestly claim that it lies within the scope of his mortal will to withstand so great a temptation, to deny so alluring an ambition, to refuse so enticing a fantasy? No man's resolve, however ironclad he may fancy it to be, is impervious to the seductive appeal of the things he might achieve at the head of a band of Portuguese chipmunks!



Or maybe it's just me...