Life is full of hurdles. Well, maybe not full of them, but there sure are plenty of them. Go look at any well-stocked sports shed and you should find them, a hurdles race can’t be run without them, and there’s heaps of the things at the Olympics. But there are also metaphorical hurdles, an obstacle which one must overcome in life. But one does not necessarily have to overcome it by jumping it, like in a race. One could simply turn around and run the other way, blindly hoping that there are no hurdles that way (although there may be a couple of mountains capped with blue goo), or one could run straight into it, knock it over, and either keep running or collapse from the pain of hurting the legs, or one could simply run around it and hope no disqualification results from such action. Disqualification from life surely cannot be a good thing. Indeed, it would most likely involve pain and carp and orang-utans that haven’t taken their vitamins or consumed Sprite in about twenty years and would rip one’s body open looking for it, particularly the Sprite. Indeed, this is only speculation, a theory which a five year old came up with while on an excursion of an ice cream factory in Uganda, but it’s a theory nonetheless and warrants consideration. Plus, it shows why you would not want to be disqualified from life.
Where is all this leading? Well, this load of nonsen- … babbled rubbis- … essay is one of the hurdles I have to overcome in my life. The only way I can overcome this hurdle is by completing the essay. I could run away and hope it finishes itself, but that hope is about as vain as hoping the sun will rise tomorrow – in other words, completely erroneous and misplaced. Oh, that reminds me, I misplaced my llama. I put it down at the petrol station last week, and five minutes later, after I’d fuelled my car, paid for the petrol, and driven off with the fuel nozzle still in the car, I noticed my llama was missing. At the same time, I noticed that the fuel nozzle, along with a lot of hose, was attached to my car. I pulled over, threw the nozzle away (it hit a newspaper stand and promptly exploded from the shock of the latest gossip), and then saw my llama’s seatbelt had been undone. I’m now very worried. Where is my Tortoise? No, don’t laugh at that name – when I brought him, I thought he was a Tortoise. But this isn’t getting me anywhere apart from overcoming the hurdle of completing this essay. Where was I again? That’s right, I need to complete this essay to overcome the hurdle of it. Thus, there are more paragraphs to follow. I could finish this now, but that is in direct defiance to the Russian Council Of Grammar’s Declaration Of Essay Rights, so I better keep going. Paragraphs filled with sentences shall follow. All going according to plan, these sentences will be filled with words (not like the last essay I wrote, which had sentences filled with books, socks, and other items with the letter ‘o’ in their names or in them themselves), these words filled with letters (not pineapple trees), and these letters made out of ink and/or pixels on a computer screen. So let’s keep going.
To formulate the plot for this essay – even though it has no plot – I consulted a friendly random penguin in Guatemala. Random Guatemalan penguins are fascinating. They establish splendidly random communities around Mexico City and other famous Guatemalan locations, like Easter Island, the Western Wall, and the Lighthouse of Alexandria (a trip to Guatemala most certainly is worth it), and these communities would not be complete without lampshades made out of beehives. I already have and shall continue to plagiarise comments made by the random penguin in Guatemala that I consulted, although he placed no copyright on his comments and said he didn’t mind if I used them, so thus it’s not technically plagiarism. Although I doubt he ever expected they’d be used in such a top secret manner as this. This experience in conversing with penguins and plagiarising statements that haven’t technically been plagiarised not only helped me to overcome the hurdle of this essay, but enriched my life in an indescribable and necessary way.
Then I decided to eat a battery. Hopefully this would get me thinking a bit more, because the nutritional and educational value of batteries cannot be denied. However, it wasn’t easy to eat. It was hard, and had springs, and I got three shards of glass stuck up my nose. I also think I swallowed the aerial way too fast. Wait, that’s not right. Batteries don’t have aerials. I think I ate my TV. So that is why my remote control won’t work. How pathetic of it; I should throw it out. I want to watch my favourite TV show, but if the remote control can’t put it on, I won’t be able to. EVER. Useless thing. I’ll go boil it in some amino acids mixed with rye.
The mention of amino acids makes me think of sheep. Merino sheep. Indeed, a Merino sheep shall be featured in this essay, because it is part of the hurdle I must overcome. And there, it just got mentioned and I am now further of the way over this particular hurdle. That was very satisfactory. Now to take a break and eat a bowl of ice cream flavoured popcorn.
Such a short break that was, but one cannot take long breaks when high above a hurdle and in mid-jump. In fact, I’m further than mid-jump, because I am just about to hit the ground. To quote a wise philosopher, “When one hits the ground, one hits the ground.” And yes, don’t question A Dog In New Zealand’s claim to be a wise philosopher, because we all know he/she/it is. But I will only hit the ground when I finish this essay, and its conclusion will only come at the conclusion of the conclusion sentence of the conclusion.
And this would be the conclusion. Remarkable that the last paragraph should be the conclusion, because I grew up with it being the second, or even before the introduction when writing unpersuasive essays. But this is the conclusion, and there’s no question about it. I am nearly over the hurdle, which is remarkable, because I usually run straight into them. That’s probably why my knees hurt so much and I can only walk over there on Fridays and can only get out of bed on a weekend. But yes, I chose to jump this time, and not in a suicidal manner, but in a hurdle-jumping manner. This is the end of my essay, and I have overcome my hurdle. Rejoice and be happy.
I also started my SOR assignment, which is very good. I don't have to worry about the threat I made to myself earlier.