Saturday June 7th 2014 Tim
Elegant wrists are a big disadvantage in life. Might
just as well put a bangle on them and practice the beauty queen wave.
Then when a person considers possible genetic origins of the elegant
wrist, nothing really very good comes from the thought process.
I'm back there in the cave, something like the Woolly Mammoth are
running, and all the boys and girls are getting all excited at the
prospect of some kind of meat product, and because I can't pick up my Mammoth womping rock, I'm off with the geriatrics to gather berries, or
nuts, or leafy greens, or whatever.
It's always possible there was a tribe of elegant wrist
people. We never ventured much further north than the warmer
parts of Europe. Southern Spain, I'd like to think, because
I can't believe we ever worked our way up through the hell
that is Mesopotamia. Nor can I believe we crossed the water
in any kind of boat, so there must have been a land bridge
across the strait of Gibraltar, and we did stuff like
sitting on hills, avoiding sunlight, staring into the
horizon and giving each other endless theories about
nothing in particular. The golden days, I guess.