Years and years ago my dad showed me the latest goofy fax making the rounds at his factory office. It was a crude drawing of a stork trying to swallow a frog. The frog had its webbed fore-fingers tightly wrapped around the stork’s neck, preventing the bird from swallowing him. But the frog’s own head was already stuck in the back of the stork’s throat. So everything basically came down to who suffocated first, as to whether the frog was eaten or not.
In the 1970s I’d come to find myself feeling a bit like that frog, with Texas playing the part of the stork.
Fortunately Texas choked first and spit me back out. Or we both choked simultaneously; whatever the case, I escaped the place pretty much unscathed by the authorities (though Shadow and I did get scarred up in other ways). That’s what happened in a nutshell.
For those who'd like to know more, there's the links below.
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