A very curious and disturbing sequence of events occurred recently at the Mango estate. It involved foodables (I think) and Mango in a form not at all like my large and handsome self. I was able to video the entire event and you can watch it.
For those of you without the high speed internets, or others who just want to ponder this happening more carefully, I, Mango, have extracted still digitals from the movie to which I will add helpful commentary.
Monday night, when momma would normally be running the vacuum or tidying up or cleaning my ears or any number of other pointless tasks she instead produced this object and declared, "Mango! THIS is a Mango!"
Being an oral kind of guy, I decided to explore it with my large and able to fit a football inside mouth. What ho? Could I have misunderstood? Perhaps she said, "Mango! THIS is a red tennis ball." It could happen.
No, not a tennis ball, because a brief time on the chopping block revealed a yellow and juicy interior that momma (gasp) proceeded to consume with disturbing nommy sounds. "Tart," she declared.
Apparently the "Mango" was some sort of foodable? Can that be right? Because I am Mango and I am NOT a foodable. Or am I?
If it was a Mango and I am Mango, then was it part of me?
And then! Oh no! She offered some for the squirt to slide into his rock eating gullet.
Then (this is where I kind of started to freak out) a slimy yellow piece of what I could only conclude was part of my innards stolen during my slumbers was offered to me, myself, Mango. "Eat," she says. "It is Mango. It is good."
Huh? Does that look right to you?
Meanwhile, the bottomless black pit o' consumption was nomming away as fast as Momma could introduce pieces past his leathery labralips.
He even fled the kitchen with a portion of my Mango-ness to consume in the privacy of the dog cave.
"This is so wrong," I thought. But I could not help being oddly drawn to the flavor and in spite of my better judgement, I, too, began consuming the false Mango with great gusto.
I am now thinking that this actually is real Mango! What else could account for the PeeWee making cracker face? His wee little self is getting flooded with powerful Mango juices.
The very essence of Mango.
Oh my! I can't stop! This is fantastic.
Am I a Mango cannibal?
Break out the Chianti and fava beans.
Because at the end of the day, that was total yummers!
Mango Man! Oh yeah!
P.S. You know, sometimes the Mango reads blogs many days after they are posted. And I know my friends will often read my posts after they have been up for a few days. That's OK. I always love comments. But I wanted to make sure that all my pals know about the notification option in blogger so that you don't miss a comment. Yuh, in the comments page there is a thingie where you put in your peemail so all your comments are sent to YOU no matter when they get left. Just a little PSA from my large and blogging for almost three years self.