Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr. Drib
It was one of those hot days in June, when the tigers in Africa in the little village of Mirbago wanted to eat all the funny little natives wearing their strange multi-colored loin-cloths (if that’s what they’re called), and singing in that falsetto way that natives like to sing in, but I wanted only to photograph their happy, ignorant faces as they scavenged for food in their avoidance of getting eaten by the tigers; however, I was unsuccessful in getting that one, great photo of this fat-bellied little child being dragged away into the bush by three very large tigers, although I followed them with my camera clutched in my hand, taking photo after photo of the struggling animals and the pudgy little boy (was it the rice that made him so fat, I wondered?), my white trousers and white shirt now somewhat soiled as I continued to follow them, clicking away with my Canon 40D, very thankful indeed that I had a fresh set of batteries and a 10-gig CF card installed in this wonderful camera that, even now, seemed to have a mind of its own as I moved closer to try to capture that one elusive photo that I knew would make me the toast of town and would show all my fellow Americans back home that I cared so much that I, too, was willing to be eaten by tigers.
Don
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And so it was that Dr Drib's quest for the longest ever opening sentence sensed the blank page ahead, slipped into second gear and accelerated towards an unspecting literary world with all the panache of a herd of Gaultier clad hippopatami.