Tag Archives: Legends

Giraffe Leaping

Did you know that we giraffes enjoy leaping?  Probably never thought about it, but we do.  We are actually pretty good at it.  Some say we can leap better than frogs, but I do not want to argue about that.  Sometimes people get the idea that we giraffes are somehow limited in our abilities, and dismiss our athletic skills.  Witness that they do not let us play professional sports!  Have you ever seen a giraffe allowed to play American football?  Even though we are the best kickers?  Or European soccer?  See my point?  It is actually a conspiracy.  We can do many things were are not given credit for.

We giraffes can leap better than frogs, but we are humble about it...

We giraffes can leap better than frogs, but we are humble about it…


The Story of Anthrax the Reindeer

One of the little known stories that the North Pole would like everyone to forget is the story of Anthrax the reindeer.  Never heard of this story?  I am not surprised.  Despite what you might think, the North Pole has a way of suppressing these kind of stories in an effort to keep up an image of good public relations.  However, when you hear the story of Anthrax you might ask yourself, why has this story not been told?  Perhaps we can engage in some discussion on this later, but first, I am sure it would be helpful for you to know the story, as if you are like other millions of earth people, it has never been told to you.

Anthrax was a Dangler

Anthrax was the love child of Blitzen and Dancer the Reindeer.  He was the product of one of those happy reindeer moments that was not supposed to happen.  Blitzen who is a known drinker, and party animal slipped some Saki to Dancer one night in a lay over in northern Japan when Santa was taking the Australian team of kangaroo led by Blackie and Bonehead to deliver the down under presents.  Santa does this every year, but that is an entirely different story.

Anyway, Blitzen slipped Dancer who was married to Prancer, a little Saki in her grog and grabbed Prancers bells and slipped off in the dark waited for Dancer.  When Dancer stumbled out of the grog house, she was not only tipsy, she was in a romantic mood and looking for Prancer.  Blitzen summoned to her in the shadows with Prancers bells, and uttered some romantic reindeers grunts, and the rest is history.

Dancer was not happy (this is an understatement) when she woke up the next morning in a pile of manger hay with Blitzen’s tongue in her ear.  She vowed to poison Blitzen when they returned to the North Pole, and she vocalized these threats to all who would listen.  Her upset was so profound that even Santa felt it necessary to place Blitzen in an an entirely separate stable and hitched Blitzen and Dancer as far apart on the sliegh as he could from there on out.  When the baby reindeer was born several months later, Dancer named it ‘Anthrax’ to remind herself how much she wanted to poison Blitzen.

Oblivious to the notion that Anthrax was any different than any other Reindeer, Santa was just happy that the reindeer were

I Toodles G. Raffe have presented here my depiction of Anthrax the Dangling Reindeer.

making little ones to so his herd was expanding.  He put Anthrax in with the other reindeer herd, and started his training.  It soon came out that Anthrax was not like other reindeer.  He had a particular problem.  He was what would later become to be known among reindeer circles as a ‘Dangler’.

Whenever Anthrax was hitched to a team of reindeer, he would take off like other reindeer into the air, but then suddenly lose all control and just dangle.  In some cases he dangled upside down as the sleigh flew, and this caused a lot of problems for Santa on his landing.  In fact, on the first test run when he let loose with his first dangle, Anthrax recieved several minor injuries when Santa had to land on the practice roof he has set up at the North Pole.

So needless to say, because Anthrax was a dangler, and the first dangler the North Pole had seen, he was ostracized.  He was not allowed to play any reindeer games, or fornicate with other reindeer so as not to produce other danglers.  Then, one foggy Christmas eve, Santa needed some help.  He could not see very well, and his sleigh landing navigating equipment was not functioning properly.  So he asked Anthrax if he would dangle underneath the sleigh, and shout out if he was coming too close to any dangerous objects.

Anthrax was delighted to be included!  Never had he dreamed he would be able to ever help Santa on Christmas Eve!  So they took off, and Anthrax dangled.  It worked as a great plan until they came to the Southern waters off the Australian Coast, and sharks seeing this tasty dangling piece of meat jumped out of the water and ate Anthrax as Santa was flying low over the water to avoid radar.  When Santa heard Anthrax’s final scream, he looked down and saw an empty chain where Anthrax had been.  Pulling up the chain of jingle bells, no sign of Anthrax remained other than some white salty seawater residue on the harness where he was hitched.

Santa finished his flight with no further events, but returned home without Anthrax.  The official North Pole report listed Anthrax as missing, and no one ever mentioned his name again.

Until now, the story of Anthrax the Reindeer was forgotten!  May his legacy live on!  This Christmas, remember Anthrax by putting some white powder in with your christmas card to your friends!

Merry Christmas!

Top 10 Reasons to ‘Unfriend’ Me on Facebook

Having an abundance of friends on facebook is cool.  Trust me, I have over 1200 at this point.  You can check me out at: Facebook/ToodlesGRaffe. However, I do not think many people consider the dangers of having me as a friend.  I am sometimes a little too outragious for everyones taste.  Therefore, I have prepared a list of the top 10 reasons to ‘Unfriend’ me on Facebook:

10) I do not like Lions.  I make many jokes, and postings that would be considered in poor taste for Lions Lovers.

9) I am perfunctory.  I change my mind and don’t care if it makes sense to everyone.  It makes sense to me, at least at that moment.

8 ) I like a good fart joke.  I am also prone to bathroom humor, and will freely share it with others, in at the wrong moment.  My timing is often awful.

7) I am convinced Bigfoot lives in the woods behind my house, and I often go hunting for him with a potato gun.  In doing so, I once shot a poodle and a sheep dog.  I consider it their fault, because they were pretending to be Bigfoot and should have known better.

6) I have my own cat experimentation labratory in my basement.  I will willingly ‘cat sit’ for you, but you may not like the way your cat looks or acts once you get him or her back.  If you get them back, that is.

5) In the summer I often dig up my neighbors septic tank and go swimming in it.

4) I hold naked parties at my house and schedule them to be held at your house without your knowledge.

3) I believe Giraffes are the superior species on planet earth, and are in fact radio receivers of the gods.

2) I toss salmon.  Often I do this in social unacceptable situations, and create a trouble in doing so.

1) Finally, I like to make people laugh.  Some people do not like to laugh, and are essentially weenies about it.  I do not care if you like it or not, my goal is to make people laugh, and laugh often.  So this above all things I have placed as #1.  If you can’t handle the laughter, unfriend me now!

I can understand why I make you nervous.  So hey, go ahead and ‘unfriend’ me.  I understand.

Still want to be my friend?  We will see.


Twelve Great Places for a Raw Egg

I thought I would write an article that is very important to me tonight.  I call this ‘Twelve great places for a raw egg’.  I believe in giving informative advice to those that like me have the mindset to create mischief 24/7. 

The raw egg is the ultimate ‘dirty bomb’ that goes back eons.  Why do I like the hidden raw egg?  Because it take days and sometimes weeks to reach its full potential, and this gives you plenty of time to sneak off undetected.  The better you are at hiding the raw egg, the more impact it will have.

The best criteria I have come up with for hiding a raw egg is to place it somewhere that is almost invisable, yet in a public place where it will gain maximum impact from its resultant odor. 

I have composed my top twelve list, in no particular order, of great places to put a raw egg to achieve maximum impact.  Here goes:

1) Under the drivers seat on a city bus.  Shove it way up inside the stuffing from underneath.  Makes for a great fresh smell

Way up under the cushions...

on the bus several days later.

2) In the air conditioning duct work of your local office building.  I prefer the post office, but any public place works great.

3) Inside the desk leg of your bosses desk.  Whoa is that fun!

4) Anywhere you can hide it in the perfume department at a local department store.  Love it!

5) In the library in the psychiatric book section.  No one ever reads that crap, so it is fitting.

6) In the bathroom at any restaurant. 

7) Buried underneath home plate at your local baseball diamond.  The umpire will think everybody it farting today.

8 ) At any convenience store where they charge high gas prices.  I like to put mine in a box of crackers and put it on the shelf.

9) In church.  Underneath a ‘pew’.  No pun intended.

10) When you go to that appointment with the tax man, sneak one inside his computer monitor. 

11) Put one inside a stuffed bunny, and leave it somewhere where someone will take it home. 

12) Sneak one behind the shelves at the health food section of the grocery store.

Raw eggs are pure magic.  The biggest difficulty is maintaining your patience to see how long it goes undiscovered.  By all means, returning the scene to inspect as a bystander can give you away.  Trust me on that one.  I always break up in laughter, and give myself away.

The Canonization of Gerry Giraffe

We Giraffes who have joined forces together on Facebook have not only formed a powerful organization called the Giraffe Liberation Front, but we also have had our trials and tribulations.  Among our most solid membership stepped forth a giraffe like none other.  His name was Gerry Giraffe.

Gerry was a legend...

In the early stages of the formation of our unified organization, Gerry stepped forth and assumed the role of our ‘High Protector’.  A position that he needed not only his sharp defense skills, but also a set of eyes in the back of his head, as the position placed him in a position of dangers with our enemies.  Who were our enemies you might ask?  Lions, hyenas and crocodiles of course.  The lions of course were the most organized and had their own group of internationally feared assassins that already had marks on the leadership of our organization, myself included.

Gerry stepped forward to protect all the executives in our organization, including myself, for which I am truly grateful.  His keen skill, and swift kicking ability enabled him to thwart many an attack on the GLF high command.  However, Gerry’s dedication, like a steel bridge in a hurricane, could not withstand the onslaught indefinitely. 

In January of 2010, Gerry was abducted by a lion front group headed by a rouge lion named ‘Al Quando Mange’.  This group tortured Gerry, and

Gerry Giraffe during his abduction; a hostage photo.

attempted to interrogate him on the whereabouts of the GLF headquarters, and the hidden location of our senior commanders around the globe.  What they did not estimate correctly was the steadfast defiance that Gerry demonstrated, despite their many attempts to torture him. 

Gerry not only withstood the brutality, but he also managed to pass along hidden clues about his location that allowed the GLF to rescue him and effectively kill all the lions involved.  All, that is, with the exception of Al Quando Mange, who managed to escape and whose whereabouts remain unknown to this day.

In later years, Gerry continuing in his role as our high protector, began secret espionage trips to hunt down Al Quando Mange and his newly formed Giraffe hate group called ‘Giraffes Are On the Menu’ also known as ‘GROM’. 

At one point Gerry was gone so long on one of these excursions, rumors bounded around the internet that he had disappeared much like Elvis, and his legend grew. 

He eventually returned as a reluctant folk hero among the Giraffes, and other creatures who had now rallied with the GLF in universal liberation.  It was during this time period that it happened.  Gerry died.  Presumably killed by lions, who left no remains, we at GLF headquarters even placed a headstone on our front lawn. 

Gerry however, elusive as ever, returned from the grave and even though he has been replaced as high protector remained on as our ambassador to the undead.  Gerry now had connections to the otherside, which made him even more fearsome to the enemy than ever before.  However, with all the international pressure from other groups seeking similar protection, and countless writers wanting to pen his biography, Gerry became even more daring in his attacks on the enemy.

Gerry Giraffe will be canonized as the first saint of the Giraffe Liberation Front movement.

It proved to be fatal.  On one winter morning, Gerry took on some video game manufacturers that were trying to produce video games that depicted Giraffes being eaten by lions.  Gerry became furious, and destroyed all of the hard drives, and software.  In his fury, he burned down the building, and left it in ruin.  However, before he could escape the rubble, it collapsed on him and Gerry was lost to us forever.

Recently, I wrote the Pope at the Vatican and asked him to Canonize Gerry Giraffe as the first Giraffe Saint.  The response was all but encouraging.  I was told that because Gerry was not human, that he had no soul, and therefore could not be canonized under Catholicism.  Knowing this was a long shot, and knowing that Gerry was anything but enamored with this religion, we moved to another plan.

We at GLF headquarters decided to Canonize Gerry Giraffe ourselves.  So the Canonization of Gerry Giraffe will occur this summer sometime with a large drinking party and naked dancing party.   As befitting the GLF, and to make our saints different from those seen in Rome at the Vatican, we have elected to depict our saints with a wavy halo, as a symbol of our irregular purity as Giraffes.

For security reasons, the location will only be disclosed to those that join the Girraffe Liberation Front on Facebook, either on the fan page or group page.  Thank you.

Soon he will be known as 'Saint Gerry Giraffe' our most prized asset.

The Legend of the Midnight Pickle

At this time of year, where a lot the world is celebrating Christmas, or Hannukah or some other form of winter gift giving celebration, I thought I would dig up an old legend that most people have never heard of because I have completely made it up. 

The Legend of the Midnight Pickle

That legend would be: The Legend of the Midnight Pickle.  What is the legend of the ‘Midnight Pickle’ you might ask?  Well the story goes back to the days before the first stories of Saint Nicholas and Santa Claus. 

It began in a small village names Dill somewhere is some forgotten country in Europe called Prussia.  Every winter, and the last remains of the village harvest were put away into storage before the first snows, the women would cook and prep food for storage.  The men would as a group gather their weapons, and trek into the hills to hunt game for meat. 

This annual ritual would go on for a week, usually in early to mid-December.  On one such occasion, when the men were away, a stranger happened by the village towards sunset. The man had just robbed a delivery coach meant for the king, and stolen a bag of gold.  The gold was heavy, so he needed a rest.  He observed that the village was full of women, and because he had a need for some lovin’, he thought he would observe them from afar, and choose the best looking woman to sneak into her house at midnight and get some, if you know what I mean. 

So he climbed a tree, and observed the comings and goings of the village for several hours, and chose a beautiful lady for his conquest.  After dark, he waited until the final candles were extinquished, and he made his move.  He snuck in through an open window, and tip toed down a hallway towards the ladies bed chamber.  As he walked down the hallway, he noticed his feet were squishing from the mud and snow on his boots.  So he decided to take off all his clothes, and laid down his bag of gold, before charging into the bed chamber for his conquest. 

It being midnight, and the lights being out, he determined the bed chamber to be the only one with a light on at the

The origin of the Pickle?

 end of the hallway.  So naked, he snuck on down the hallway until he was just outside the door.  On the otherside of the door he heard some odd noises, and this got him excited. 

Unable to contain himself, he charged through the door and roared loudly!  To his surprise, he had charged not into a bedchamber, but the kitchen!  The lady of the house was not sleeping, but chopping vegetables from the harvest.  Surprised at the sudden noise, she spun around and swung a large cucumber while at the same time grabbed the ladle of a large pot of pea soup and slung it at the man. 

He was hit in the head with the cucumber, and drenched in boiling hot green soup! Screaming he jumped through a window and ran off naked through the village and off into the forest.  From that night on, the village women relayed the story of a large green man running naked through their village. 

Let's remember the Pickle...

Every year from there on until the end of the village’s existence, they re-inacted the green man incident and served a version of boiled cucumbers that became a village cuisine after that night.  The men had followed the man’s tracks for a few miles after returning, but never found him or his body. 

The clothes he left in the hallway were marked with a small tag for his name ‘Pickle’, and the bag of gold was more than the village had ever seen in their history, so from there after the legend of the midnight Pickle came into existence.  From then on, pickles have become world renowned, and no one remembers the mysterious naked man named Pickle.

The legend lives on...

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