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I see three interpretations for this high-school-math-class doodle of an alligator:
- This is Edgar Clayton, associate professor of circus performance. He worked his tail off to get his doctorate in circusery, but now he’s wondering if he should have stuck with bartending instead. (College students don’t tip very well.)
- This is Julia French, scientific beach-ball tester. It’s really more of an art, actually, though she’ll never admit it.
- This is Bubba Du Puis, watermelon transporter. Don’t you worry: Though this technique looks quite dangerous, Bubba hasn’t lost a melon yet.
Sorry, doodle fans. There’s no doodle here. Check back next week for your usual dose of wacky scribbles.
Flamingo fans are in luck. Here’s a video I made for my lovely wife/editor’s 29th birthday. She’s a flamingo fan, too!
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Decades earlier, you would have found Isadora Tam chopping through a jungle, climbing a peak or skipping across magma.
This evening, she rested on a gilded chair. Isadora had gone from gripping machetes and precious treasures to cradling cigarettes and forceful martinis.
This was retirement. It was awful.
She searched the faces at the party. Surely another ex-adventurer longed to hear the twang of a trap or zip of a bullet.
A bleak sea of smiles stared back.
But wait! There was Lucy McCartney. She used to love peril. She was more scars than skin!
Isadora sidled up next to her potential savior.
“Lucy,” she began. “You’ve been staring at that drink for hours. Want to go get in trouble?”
Lucy plunked down her icy glass.
“There’s so much comfort here,” Lucy shuddered.
She extended a hooked hand.
A week later, the pair were back in the rainforest, fording a stream.
Water soaked their socks. Bugs nipped their ears.
It was glorious.