Jeff is still looking for some sort of clue both to his own origins and those of the species as a whole. The sad tale of Gunther harkens to Jeff’s own story of being found on the doorstep of the local meatpacking plant and being raised by the Judas goat. He often has fond memories of his nanny, but frequently wishes that he had been raised at least by bipeds. And also by something not refered to as a “Judas”. That last occassionally worries him quite a bit.
Some days his quest for the family that left him to make, or be made into, sausage can be so disheartening that he has to go out looking for those that have a more pathetic lot in life than his own. Thankfully, the internet has yet to let him down in that regard. Sometimes his discoveries are so successful that his machine itself will rebel and commit harakiri after displaying the lives of those that are so sad. Luckily Jeff buys his computers in bulk and that saves on precious downtime and he can continue scouring the web to find more joyous tidbits to share with all of you folks.
You people do give Jeff’s life shape and meaning. Without all five of our constant readers I’m sure Jeff would have gone slightly mad. And before you know it I would actually be able to convince him to make toe socks for elephants that we could sell on ebay.
So, tune in tomorrow for more of the harrowing tales of a youth spent amongst lunchmeat on the hoof.
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