Spring has sprung and love was in the air, and the zoo was alive with the ardor of the Bongo as well as the prolific March Hare. Claire a grandchild of seven Mays was bushy tailed and wide eyed at the wonders of the unnatural urban oasis. The frisky felines that are the Bengal cats had just been introduced as potential mates in the hope to produce a cub or two in a confined and limited space. A Bull Elephant was incensed as it battered the steel walls of love’s restraint and bellowed with frustration from being denied in a locked down cage. The chimps, the ghosts of Cheetah, Mr. Mugs Curious George and the Bear, for our closest cousins were La femme in estrus was their only care. One such simian was so aroused, and having no outlet for his primal lust gathered a pile of straw, and commenced with a tapered erection to achieve some pointless satisfaction or bust… It gave a new meaning to the term impromptu straw poll. I suggested to the gathering gawking crowd as our ape was about to partake of his third roll in the hay, to view more than two bouts of his shenanigans would be tantamount to aiding and abetting a shameless pornographic clown…
The fruit Bats were astir hanging upside down and only righting themselves to eat or to get relief. One such fruit bat opened it wings ready for show and tell, it was quite adept at licking it’s genitals until its body would quiver in a short powerful convulsive spells. This bat was truly a fruit as it did this with clock work orange regularity, having no thumbs it continuously twiddled his didle with its sandpaper like tongue The Giraffe enclosure with their constant companion the terminally shy and with her head in the sand to escape prying eyes, the gangly African Ostrich named Peggy.
For a mere five spot you can procure three romaine lettuce leaves and hike the ramp to the height of a giraffes keen view, and offer up the honeymoon sandwich, lettuce alone snatched up on cue. Claire offered up the green leaf delicacies that were hastily mugged with a prehensile tongue. We lingered a time enjoying the moment, and the keeper’s vast store of innocuous knowledge. I could feel the young female Giraffe named Neema, focus her eyes on me, as so it seemed at the time. Neema was the princess of the herd, and known for her mischievous nature and her detailed coiffure. Slowly she maneuvered closer and closer to me until at the exact right moment she pressed her face to mine. I jumped back startled at her attempt to steel a kiss. Claire and I left in haste as I contemplated the unusual turn of events. Viola I think I know what sparked Neema’s interest; it was my Panama hat that was made out of straw. As for me it was a revelation perhaps I remained a single man and couldn’t seem to connect with the right woman, perhaps woman were not my problem, perhaps my problem if not a crime, I have been dating the wrong species all this time.
See you on the radio