ester b..
There’s nothing silly about a goose.
Okay, maybe having a kind of pimple named after you is not the greatest PR stunt. Also it probably it would be a good idea to stop laying golden eggs and leading people on wild you-know-who chases so often, or at least start letting them say boo to you once in a while. And frankly, the whole tooting your own horn en masse thing, while endearing, could use a little classing up. But when I look at you like this, all warm and practically invisible, except for those fanfuckintastic orange honkers in the same December air that chills me to the bone (even though I’m wearing some feathers on loan from you; thanks for that, by the way)—when I see how you strut, all huge and white and beautiful like that? Then I know, see, that silly is the last word a person ought to apply to you. And I’ll keep saying that same damn thing until my own you-know-what is cooked.
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