Friday, March 9, 2007

I'm Pretty Sure I Can Make a Pearl in Here

It's been 20 weeks or so, and now that I've spruced up the place, and thwarted that nasty lie about the Umlaut carrying my half-sibling, I have decided that I am in need of a project to bide my time. But not just any project - something grand, meaningful, and valuable. I was thinking taxedermy, but to be honest, hunting big game and mounting their heads on my wall seems unfair, as all I have to do is call an animal by it's name (my voice sounds like mother nature) and it will walk into the barrell of my weapon, or when I am older, my bare hands.

No, I need a project that truly demonstrates the genetic acheivement that I represent. So, after some thought, I've decided I am going to make a pearl while I'm in here. I'm thinking 3.5 - 5lbs should suffice. If an oyster can do it, I sure as hell can. Granted, my organs are made of solid gold and I will inherit a fortune on top of the one I create for myself, so why make a jewel? Because it's totally badass of course. You think Shiloh made a pearl while in the womb? Hell no. That tub of blubber barely knew how to make a number 2. No, I will come out of the womb at immense speed, with my scroll of possible names and present the largest pearl known to humankind. Eventually, it will be placed upon my scepter I should think. And with it I shall be able to see not just the future, but hear colors, taste music and roll it all over my arms and stuff like David Bowie did in Labyrinth. That was the shit.
I see... a waifish deep-voiced mouth-breathing
bony whore stealing your father.

(That's what I think he is quietly whispering!)

So, I'm definitely gonna make a pearl, and I've got enough calcium carbonate and conchiolin to get things started. I will also need a stimulant of some kind to get things going; grains of sand are hard to come by in here, but I have read that small pieces of organic material or other mantle tissue would do the trick. Seeing as mother is not a bivalve mollusk, but rather the hottest things on two legs in a little show called Six Degrees, the usual kind of oyster-mantle tissue will not suffice. However, I did just install a fine mahogany mantle above my fireplace, and I am willing to sacrifice a sliver of it to such an important and biologically impossible endeavor. I don't know where I will move my candelabra, but that is a project in itself!

Growth Note: My burps are composed by John Williams.

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