I suppose I could write about their habitat.
But that would be a bit intellectual for this blog. And would require research. And I'm not sure if there's any articles about otters over at The Daily Mail.
I know I could make another attempt at poetry...
There once was an otter called Reg
Who had an artificial leg
Don't ask me how
Or raise a brow
Just accept that this story is true
Okay. I don't think the poetry angle is going to work. I'll just try another second verse to be sure...
One day Reg went for a swim
On a lake that was full to the brim
He hit his leg on a log
It fell off and blinded a frog
And the river police towed him away
Nope, the poetry thing is really not working. No one's going to appreciate a poem about an otter with an artificial leg.
I think I need to revisit the Turley Two Liner poetic form....
Otters, cute wet creatures
Smell a bit fishy
Hmm. Better. But I don't think I'm really capturing their cuteness. One last attempt and then I'll have to think of something else other than "otter".
Otters, big whiskers like Terry Thomas
Should be flying Spitfires, not swimming
Oh damn, damn, damn. I am just no good at poetry. I give up.
I know! Let's talk about onesies!
Hmmm.... onesies.....you know.... I'd like to see Kim Kardashian get her arse out of a onesie in a hurry. In fact, I'd pay good money to see it. In fact, I reckon it would probably take her so long you could make a feature film out of it.
Right that's O done. P next. Any suggestions?
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