As you may or may not know, because of recent life events, I've taken to sleeping in a parking space at Pedro's condo. For the most part, it's comfortable, but a couple of nights ago things took a turn for the weird.
I'm just settling in, reading an old Crack'd magazine by the light of my sterno lamp, when the light catches something under a late model Buick that's parked next to me. Moving the lamp for a clearer look, I see that it appears to be some sort of pod-like object. It's a tight fit, but I manage to wiggle my way under the vehicle just enough to get a good grip on it. It's heavier and warmer than I thought it would be. Me, I'm thinking that I've just found my new pillow, but the thing starts to shutter and growl. Now, I'm a brave man, but I have no shame in telling you that I may have peed my pants a little.
All of a sudden, the pod begins to open as though it's blooming. There's an odd, gurgling noise and a hairy object slides out of the end of it. Although it's covered head to toe in a viscous liquid, I easily ascertain that it's an elderly koala. Squinting at the glow of my lamp, it looks me in the eyes and asks in a thick Australian accent if I have Grant Lawrence's home number.
It has nothing to do with this podcast, but I just had to tell someone.
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