Being a children's author of notable works such as Duke & Michel: The Mysterious Corridor, Duke & Michel: The King Tingaling Painting, Jellybean the Dragon and Elias Zapple's Rhymes from the Cabbage Patch as well as a noted slug breeder that commands many a slug of which all do my bidding - whether that be making my tea, fetching my moustache wax or attacking shopping centres, this inactive lifestyle has caused me to have quite the belly. There it sits, hanging over my belt like a big piece of dough. Yes, I should start doing stomach crunches or sit ups or perhaps get my slugs to bounce up and down on it but when one spends as much time as I do sitting down writing incredibly funny children's books, what else can I do? Besides, a belly makes a statement. It says, I am a writer and a creative genius and my belly is testament to that.
Went for a meal this evening with Bert the Slug. Bert obviously had to be hidden in my pocket otherwise we wouldn't have been allowed into the restaurant. I tried numerous times to coax him out but he refused believing that if he were visible then the staff and the patrons would throw a fit.
So, I ordered food for two looking like a real greedy guts and appearing to be a rather sad individual. I had to stealthily feed Bert his morsels, carefully putting bits and pieces of food into my pocket for him to eat.
Anyhoo, I got to the shrimp tempura when I was given a rather strange reddish-looking sauce to dip the tempura into. I did so and was revolted. I exclaimed, 'this tastes like vomit!' causing all the customers and staff to stare at me. I dipped a crumb into the sauce for Bert to try and he too agreed that the sauce did taste like vomit.
I alerted the waiter who refused to believe me and refused to try it. So naturally I did the only thing I could do which was to go home, get five cabbages then return and hurl them at the restaurant.
My slugs later returned contaminated the batter.
In Maputo I am known for my love of tinned tuna.