All My Friends Are Hairy

Just when I thought I had enough hairy friends some more always come along. I suppose it is my own doing but who knew a small piece of pastry would result in a friendship rooted in stalking.

I was sitting the park early this morning enjoying some breakfast when they entered my life. One of them popped a squat beside me and looked at me with its baleful eyes. All right, I will give you one piece and then you leave me alone. This was the beginning of the end. It left after I gave it a piece and I foolishly believed I was alone until it returned with an entourage.

The one who I fed had marched the rest over believing I had opened a buffet. I got up and began to evade. They followed. I walked to the end of town (its not very big) and I knew they were still with me. I could hear their panting behind my back. I made a break in the opposite direction and began to strafe back and forth across the street. I ducked into a shop for a bit to buy some things and when I got out there they were, sitting...waiting.

Not long after, I went to a coffee plantation and the owner gave us a tour. He was from England and had owned the plantation for two years. He giddily told me his plan to produce less yet better coffee rather than a mass amount of mediocre coffee. He´s a madman! It was at this point he looked exactly like John Hammond from Jurassic Park.

´Less, yet better coffee! muahaha!´

John showed me around the crops and the production process. Then he showed me the septic tank he had just bought. His plan was to use the tanks and just bury them when they got full. He didn´t want any human waste in his soil. At the end we tried some of the fresh coffee. Some more of my hairy friends gathered around (different ones) and observed as I drank the coffee. John you are a madman but this just might work.

Upon returning to town my old hairy friends acknowledged me. I guess I can relate to them in a way. All I want is cheap/free food like them. In this way my friends are hairy but so am I...a bit.