If minions were for real, they'd be the world's number one pet, I think. Because who in their right mind could ever neuter let alone put down or abandon a minion?
Johan and I went to a nice coffee shop one morning, and they served me a cappuccino with the letter S drawn into the foam. I don't remember them asking my name, nor did the name of the shop start with the letter S. So go figure.
I guess S has a simple and organic shape, whereas R can be quite a bitch to pull off latte-art wise. So perhaps this is what they teach you in barista class. "In our first semester, we're going to perfect the letter S. Come fall, we'll be making hearts and leaves, and by the time you graduate, you will be mastering The Jacko."
By the way, in the photo below Darth Vader went: "Hey Johan, get a photo of me slicing the air with this huge pink feather!"
Lion's Head it's called.
Feeling cocky, thumbs up and all.
But as we approached the top, I may have cried and gagged a little. And that's when Johan decided to take a photo of me.
Guys, seriously, I was staring into the abyss! That's how steep it was. And there was no security fence! Or security net! And I'm afraid of heights! And honestly, one misstep and that would have been the end of me. What I didn't get though was that little kids and barefoot joggers kept passing us. "DON'T YOU WANT TO LIVE?!" I called out from my fetal position on the ground.
And on an almost final and quite unrelated note: Tourists looking at penguins.
And also, synchronously holding back a fart?
Meanwhile, the star of the show was pulling all the tricks it learned while majoring in hospitality management: "Oh really, all the way from Montana? I've got a cousin in Montana."