When we arrived home from work tonight we discovered on our front step an unexpected, nondescript brown box. What on earth could be inside it? After some moderate attempts at guessing, we opened it to behold the amazing, awesome contents:
That’s right — a fabulous, fabulous friend had taken it upon herself to surprise us with a shipment of our very own World Cup vuvuzelas, with which we can now express our unbridled excitement in all manner of situations. Boomer immediately took hers out on the back deck to delight and thrill our neighbors.
They are shockingly difficult to play, if your name rhymes with “Schnookie”. Or if your name actually is “Schnookie”. But if you’re not an idiot, a vuvuzela is an essential addition to your life. How else can you express your unbridled excitement?
Look at that! Augustus of Prima Porta is unbridledly excited, and demonstrating the vuvuzela’s telescoping properties!
Even little Shrieky is brimming with unbridled excitement! Vuvuzelas are bringers of joy. They are the most amazing thing ever. Anyone who says otherwise is just a cranky jerk who has never received an unexpected gift of them, and then gigglingly raced around the house blowing them at their cats.
Of course, if you look closely at the cat in the picture above, you might be able to tell that there is another possibility for someone who says that vuvuzelas suck — that person might be a housecat who has been chased by one.
Anyway, the long and the short of this momentous gift is that we A) can now toot our vuvuzelas when big goals are scored on the TV in the World Cup, and B) can bring them to the next Devils game we go to, and blow them in the Fire Lounge right behind Doc and Chico. You won’t even have to listen too diligently, because seriously, you won’t be able to miss us.
Per pam’s request, we took a few more pictures of the denizens of stately IPB Manor expressing their unbridled joy: