Carl has sold!

Well, it's finally happened.  I been bought!  If you were unlucky enough to miss it, then it all went down at 12:58 today.

CROC BOTTLE
(Source: crazysand.co.uk)

I'm kind of excited.  It's not like human excitement, though.  Reptilian excitement is a more laid back affair.  We learn to hide it well.  We have to.  Imagine a tender young wildebeest watering at the side of a stinky river.  Now imagine a croc lying in wait, peering up from the depths.  Only, that old croc has such a munch-on that he starts swishing his tail, frothing at the mouth and auto-deathrolling like some crazy alligator.  Sure as anything, that wildebeest's gonna show a clean set of hooves and be tagging on to the end of the southerley migration before you can say Sobek (see May 31 post).

So we kinda keep it all bottled up.  My Keeper says that's a metaphor.  If like me, you have trouble with metaphors, then there's a picture above which shows a bottled croc.

Anyway, all that remains now is for the filthy lucre to change hands and I'm outta this place.  Gonna say farewell to the Keeper, the storage heater, the telly and everything and say hello to new stuff.  Possibly involving puppies growing on trees (see June 29 post).

So long for now,


Carl

Carl holds his breath

This is the Keeper speaking.  I realise that I won't be the Keeper for much longer, so I suppose you could describe me as the outgoing Keeper or even the lame-duck Keeper.  Nevertheless,  I currently have the authority to speak on Carl's behalf.

WHAT LURKS BENEATH THE STILL WATERS?
(Source: huffingtonpost.com)

You see he is literally holding his breath in anticipation of the big sale.  It's due to end tomorrow evening.  Obviously, breath-holding is not especially problematic for a wooden crocodile since wooden crocodiles might generally be described as respiration-negative.  However, he did ask me to leave you with his final fact, which, as always, is entirely appropriate to his current predicament:


Carl's Croco-fact #11

Crocs can stay underwater for more than an hour on account of their croc haemoglobin which fills the blood with bicarbonate ions.

So wooden or not, crocs can hold their breath a long time, although up until 8pm tomorrow may be a bit of a big ask...

Happy bidding.


The Keeper

Carl feels the nerves

Two days to go.  Oh man, am I feeling it.  All around the world there are animals feeling like me... changes to their natural habitat, human domination, decline of dinner animals...  Now, the Keeper's den is puppy-free and there's not much chance of a lost wildebeest wandering by, but at least I got me telly.  And a comfy spot on the storage heater.

Come, the first of July, it's all gonna change.  Could be that I become the property of a twerp, or an alligator-lover... or a vegetarian.  That's the trouble with ebay.  You don't know what you're gonna get.

So yeh.  I'm feeling a bit apprehensive.

Let me test you on something...  Where do crocodiles live?  Sound like an easy question?  You're gonna say Africa or India, aren't you? Well, fair play.  But there's something you might not be aware of.

MMMM.  WHERE PUPPIES GROW ON TREES
(Source: morningstarbordercollies.com)

Carl's Croco-fact #10

When people (humans) think of the Americas, they always think about alligators.  Well actually, there is an American Crocodile.  And it's protected.  Unfortunately, the American Alligator is also protected to stop people accidentally killing crocs. 

I know.  Lucky twerps.  They're not endangered at all, but they benefot from the plight of their superior cousins.


Anyway, what I'm getting at is that, like the American Crocodile, my habitat is changing in a couple of days.  Could be I go to a magical place where the puppies grow on trees *(see picture above) and stinky riverness is all around.  Or could be I get bought by a business person without a true appreciation of my uniquely endangered woodcrafted, handcarved charm.  Stubby claws crossed...

Until the next time,


Carl

Carl is feeling the heat

Phew wot a scorcher.  You wouldn't believe how hot it is sitting up here on my storage heater.  Obviously, the heater's not on.  Feels like it is though.

Actually, I'm feeling the heat in more ways than one...  Three days to go until the sale. Not that there's been much more bidding action.  Not surprised, really.  They're all leaving it until the last minute so they get me for the best possible price.  I'm certainly a steal at my current price...

Anyway, where was I?  Oh yeh.  The heat.  Well here's a totally appropriate fact for you to mull over:

I GOT THE MOUTH SWEATS
(Source: hot photoshoot)

Carl's Croco-fact #9

Sometimes you might see a croc basking on the bank with its mouth open.  Why's that?  Is he hungry?  Is he waiting for an egyptian plover to give him a clean (see June 21 post)?  Is he just showing off?  Nope, all wrong.  He's cooling down.  Crocs sweat through their mouths!

Hehe.  Amazing, aren't we!

Stay cool,


Carl

Carl answers the ultimate question

Do crocodiles love?

That's an interesting question, that is.  It doesn't take a lot of imagination to think of stuff that you could say crocs love.  We got wildebeest, fish... puppies...  But that's dinner-love and almost goes without saying.

You might recall an earlier post (June 7 ) where I talked about a cow - a she-croc - emerging dripping and bow-legged from a stinky river.  The Keeper says that makes him think of a human that he knows called Ursula Andress.  But that's not love, that's rumpy-pumpy.  In fact, it's not even that.  It's thinking about rumpy-pumpy.

Crocs understand dinner and they understand rumpy-pumpy. But do they love?  My answer is this:

DO CROCS LOVE?
(Source: scenicreflections.com)

Crocs love the river, slow-flowing and deep.  It supports em while they do the old log-float,; it churns pleasingly when they do the old deathroll; it protects them when they're on the bottom looking up at splashing feet, or oars.  Without the river, the croc is nothing but a washed-up lizard.   The river sees them at their best, and their worst.  You always know where you are with a river.  In it, by it, on it.

For a croc, it's never about the rumpy-pumpy.  Or even the dinner.  It's about having a place.  And that place is a stinky old river, every time.

So I hope that explains the crocodile perspective.

If you want to know more, you can ask me in 'person'.  Just takes a bid...

love,



Carl

Carl lays some lyrics down

MUSIC WITH A BITE
(Source tomcatdesign.co.uk)

Today, I was humming this tune.  So I thought I'd put words to it.

What with my stumpy arms, I'm gonna struggle to learn guitar to play along to it though.  Maybe I'll just perform it acapella - crocodile-style.

You may recall, we crocs have quite an impressive vocal range (see June 19 post).

Anyway, here it is.  My song.

Carl the Crocodile

In the stinky waters of the River Nile,

Where the mozzies buzz by the muddy banks

And the ibis flies the Egyptian skies,

There's a slinky, warty crocodile

Goes by the name of Carl.

In the stinky waters of the River Nile,

That snakes due south from the delta's mouth

Past dipping bows and sipping cows,

There's a sleek and wise streetwise reptile

Goes by the name of Carl.

Well he floats like a log

But he still has time to blog;

He's the crocodile with a lot o' bile;

He's a puppyphile with a killer's smile;

And he sure likes eating dog.

In the stinky waters of the River Nile,

Past pyramids that the pharoahs hid

And the swaying reeds and the sodden weeds,

There's a woodcarved, charming crocodile

Goes by the name of Carl.

Well he floats like a log

But he still has time to blog;

He's the crocodile with a lot o' guile;

He's a puppyphile with a killer's smile;

And he sure likes eating dog.

So-bek, almighty Sobek,

Carl is selling soon.

So-bek, the feast of Sobek,

On the thirtieth of June.

Well he floats like a log

But he still has time to blog;

He's the crocodile with a lot o' style;

He's a puppyphile with a killer's smile;

And he sure likes eating dog.

So there it is.  Hope you enjoyed it.

Keep rockin'

Carl

Carl expresses doubts about 'social networking'

Crocs are pretty solitary.  Every now and again, we pool forces.  I mean, we herd fish and stuff like that.  But it's not democracy.  It's not even anarchy.  The Keeper says that those words would mean that either no crocs eat or all crocs eat.  No, it's not like that.  If we go on a fishing trip, than the baddest croc gets the first feed. Which makes sense, really.

Reason I'm talking about this, is that humans are weird.  Obviously, that goes without saying to an extent.  No, but they are weird, coz they are 'social' animals.  What that appears to mean is that they like facebook.

Now, I may be a croc, but I know what facebook is.  I have a page after all!  But, the one thing I can't understand, is how can you hunt by facebook?  You gotta wait for stuff.  How you gonna hunt like that.  Let's say your floating in a stinky river with a real munch-on.  So you log on to facebook and you tell it "what's on your mind" (see below): "I gotta munch-on"

CARL THE CROCOLIE
(Source: Carl's facebook page)

Then what happens?  You wait.  Some time later, one of your friends comes back with something witty, like, I dunno.  "Oh, yeh?  Why don't you order a 'Croc Monsieur'?"


Trouble is, it took em so long to think of that joke, the wildebeest I was watching on the riverbank is by now 3 days into its southerly migration.

That's why I have my doubts about this 'social networking'.  One way or another, tools are sposed to make it quicker and easier to get prey.  Seems like a fail to me.

Stay in touch,


Carl

Carl's prison blog

It's like I'm in clink, doing time.  I've got a ten day sentence.  And my crime?  My crime is being a charming 'objet d'art'.  I think that's french for "item".  (French are a different flavour of human).

JAILHOUSE CROC
(Source: mugshot)

Course, I've got three notches on my cell wall now.  Only seven days left to serve before my release into the big, wide world - otherwise known as my ebay sell-date; otherwise known as the Festival of Sobek (see May 31 post) .  Oh, it's not really an actual cell I'm in.  I mean, you can't get institutionalised sitting on a storage heater in front of the telly.  Not really.  Plus, I get to go on the odd field trip (see June 18 post).  Day release, at least.

But it's still like being in jail.  Only, instead of visitors, you get bidders.  Wish they'd smuggle me in some Class A puppy.  Got a real munch-on tonight.

Talking of bidders, I got 3 now.  Sweet, huh?

But, I'm not getting carried away.  And to prove it, I'm gonna slow things down with one peach of a fact:

Carl's Croco-fact #8

There are four types of crocodilians: Crocodiles, alligators, caiman and alligators.

I lifted that from the internet, coz it made me chuckle.  Obviously the web editor responsible for that particular nugget (see planet-pets.com) is a right alligator.  They're always biased.  And twerps.  What he meant to say was crocodiles, gharials, caimans and, at a pinch, alligators.

Anyway, it's lights out in chokey, so I'm gonna hit my bunk.

Stay out of trouble, kids.


Carl

Carl sparks interest on global internet site

Do you like the title of this post?  It was my Keeper's idea.  I was gonna go with "Carl gets a bid on ebay", but he says I gotta spice it up.  Crocs are no good at creativity, so I went with the Keeper's suggestion.  Humans aren't very straight up are they?  It all seems like false-advertising to me.  But he says humans are more sophisticated than that.  Says they're media savvy.  Whatever.

WIN A CROC!
(Source: stevedavey.blogspot.com)

You won't get that on my ebay ad.  What you see is what you get!  Although, even then, he insisted on using a picture of me playing monopoly.  Hope people don't think they're gonna get a free board game.  I mean, surely a handcarved, woodcrafted, charming wooden croc like me and his very own blog is quite enough!

Mind you, I can't deny that crocs can sometimes do with a bit of PR.  We don't got the best of reps.  Same with dingos (see right).  Mind you, they are actually prey from my point of view.  I'd love to eat a dingo that has eaten a puppy.  Keeper says that's the same concept as turducken.

While you're looking at that frontpage, check out the eye-catching banner at the top.  Win a Croc!


You could too!  Ebay is only a click away.

Click away!


Carl

Carl is down for essential maintenance

WE APOLOGISE TO OUR CUSTOMERS
(Source: eplteen.blogspot.com)

Well, given that it's the 21st day of the Month of the Crocodile, I spose it's about time that I got a bit of the old maintenance.  And let's face it, who doesn't enjoy a nice Mr Sheen rubdown and a thorough cotton-budding.

Here's a message from the Keeper:

"Carl the Crocodile will be down for essential maintenance during Tuesday June 21.  We apologise for any inconvenience this may cause our customers.  In the mean time, may I take this opportunity to thank you for your continued support during the Month of the Crocodile and wish our ebay bidders the best of luck for the auction."

He has a weird way of saying things, doesn't he?  Reckon he'd benefit from a good Mr Sheening, too.

ON MY MAINTENANCE GANTRY
(Source: maintenance records)

Anyway, it sure is nice to get up on the old maintenance gantry once in a while.  I recommend it, personally.

Carl's Croco-fact #7

Nile crocs get Egyptian Plovers to clean their chops and they don't even eat them. 

Mind you, I reckon the temptation to chomp up one of those tasty little fellows probably gets too much once in a while.

With all those feathers, it'd be like dinner and toothbrush all in one!

Stay clean!


Carl

Carl for sale

It's here!  The day has finally come!  Over the next 10 days, ebay will encounter a surge in traffic the like of which it has never known.  They'll be re-routing services, reinforcing servers and generally going ape with all the crazy crocodile-centric action coming their way.

Well.  They might.  You never know.

Anyway, there's a pic below... or... you could just go to ebay and bid on my wooden ass!



CHECK ME OUT!
(Source: ebay.com)

Mind you, I gotta say the Keeper is a bit quiet today.  Should of thought of that, shouldn't he.  Can't hang onto Carl forever.  I'm a wandering soul, a nomad, a transient delight...

If you love someone, set them freeeeeeee!

Caveat emptor


Carl

PS  See ya tomorrow.

Carl's opera experience

I know!  More culture, right?!  It's a quiet day on telly today.  Earlier, I watched some humans jumping around doing 'athletics',  It made my tummy rumble, I can tell you.  Especially the triple jump.  Man, the drumsticks on them!!!

Anyway, after that, there was some opera on.  Not my Keeper's cup of tea.  He disappeared upstairs.  So, I thought, well I'll give it a bash.  Now, art was cool (see June 7 post) and literature - whilst initially confusing - was sweet (see June 15 post), but opera...  what is that all about?

CROC ROCKING
(Source: elton john)

There were lots of chunky people yodelling in a made-up language.  Usually one at a time to be fair, but it still sounded really bad.  Course, crocs know all about making noise, but our 'opera' is more functional. 

Take for example the wonderful sound that communicates the fact that a threat has been detected.  Now that's a tune.  Then there's the old juvenile croc distress call.  Music to my ears.  Sounds cruel, I know, but big crocs tend to eat little crocs, too.  Crunchy!

But my favourite croc opera sound is the old 'Mr Frisky', otherwise known as the courtship bellow.

So basically, human opera seems like a load of pointless screeching, whereas crocs rock (see pic, above).  That's my thesis and I'm sticking with it.

Arrivaderchi


Carl

Carl really goes on a field trip this time

Yeh, so forget about your imposter Carl the Crocodiles, who may or may not go on a so-called "field trip".  I went on an actual field trip today and not a lame cartoonist, zookeeper or school child in sight.

One of the high points was recreating the famous Fountain of Nimes tableau.

THE FOUNTAIN IN NIMES
(Source: Keeper's Holiday Snaps)

SPOT THE DIFFERENCE
(Source: field trip photo-shoot)

Check out the pictures on either side.  Left is the majestic fountain discussed briefly earlier (see May 30 post).  Right is my little tribute.  It was shot in Ashford.  Cool huh?

The Ashford one was a scary experience.  Can't see any water at the moment, can you?  Trouble is, you just don't know when it's gonna shoot.

JUST BIDING MY TIME
(Source: Carl's Field Trip)

But the whole field trip wasn't spent trying to recreate human stuff like fountains and that.  No, I also got a chance to do what crocs do best: bask and survey.  There's nothing quite like sitting on the river bank, waiting for some unsuspecting mammal to wander by.  Not that you get much more than bullheads and sticklebacks.  No matter, it's the anticipation that matters.

You can see the pic on the left there.  I'm in me element, init.  You can't actually see in the picture, but this big juicy bullhead just went swimming by.  If it wasn't for the big gallumphing footsteps of the Keeper, I'd of been in there, deathrolling that tasty little chappy.

It's a waiting game, though.  And that's what crocs do.  They wait.  That way, they maximise their chances and therefore their dinner.

I LIKE BROWN WATER
(Source: Carl's Field Trip)

We took in a bunch of stuff on the Field Trip.  After a while the keeper said he wanted to take me somewhere else.  The way he described it, I thought it was gonna be some fetid swamp.  A dream location, in other words..  Not quite, but it turned out to be something similar, although there wasn't much croc food on the menu.

It was OK, though.  As a rule, crocs like brown water with scum floating on the top, and there seemed to be and endless supply of it.  I thought it was a croc thing, but the Keeper also seems to be a fan of fetid swamp water.

So, yeh.  Not a bad field trip

To be honest, I'm just enjoying the last few precious days of freedom before I am sold into a life of slavery.  Unless, dear reader, you deliver me by means of your sweet purchase power...

Bottoms up.

Carl

Carl the Crocodile Goes on a Field Trip

I haven't really gone on a field trip.  That's tomorrow.  Today, I want to talk about imposters.  Imposters means pretending to be what you're not.  Although that sounds like a human concept coz it's about making things up, it isn't really.  When a croc does the old log-float, he is an imposter.  Coz he's not really a log.  He's a sly old croc looking for dinner.    But the imposter, I wanna talk about is none other than Carl the Crocodile.

IMPOSTER #1
(Source: blurb.com)

See, I was doing a bit of research ahead of the big ebay sale and I came across not one, not two, but three fake Carl the Crocodiles!  I know.  The cheek of it, right?

The first one was this made-up Carl the Crocodile who allegedly likes going on field trips.  There's a book (see right) about him.  Apparently he loves "watching school children visit him at the zoo".  That is just ridiculous.  If that was really me, firstly I would not be chuffed at being in a zoo; and secondly, it would be like torture watching all of that prey walk by and not being able to eat em up.  Torture.  We're not talking copyright infringement here, we're talking slander.  I got my reputation to consider.

IMPOSTER #2
(Source: facebook.com)

The second imposter I found is almost as bad.  It's this silly cartoon crocodile character on facebook.  The main thing that tells you this is an imposter is that he is from Columbus, Ohio.  Well, you don't get crocs in Columbus, Ohio.  Plus,  I've never even been there (although my Keeper says he has).  This imposter also says he's training to be a ninja.  That is completely ridiculous.  Crocs don't make good ninjas. 

And the last thing I have to say is that  he spells "the" in his name with a big T.  My Keeper says you don't need capitals for articles, conjunctions or prepositions.  I don't exactly know what that means, but it sounds like a convincing argument.

IMPOSTER #3
(Source: youtube.com)

The third imposter is an actual crocodile.  But he's still an imposter coz he's not me.  He is a baby croc, but I don't know what the humans are doing to him.  Whatever it is, he doesn't seem to like it too much.  If you feel you have to, you can view a clip of him here.

OK, so those are the three imposters I wanted to tell you about.



Do not accept imitations.  There is only one Carl the Crocodile.  He is unique.  He is handcarved, woodcrafted and charming.  And pretty soon, he could be yours...

Seeya later.

Carl



Carl's berates his Keeper

THE KEEPER ISN'T ALL THAT
(Source: ebay photo-shoot)

The Keeper can be a bit lazy at times.  Take today, for example.  Does he lend old Carl a helping hand for the Thursday blog post?  Nope.  He keeps saying, there's no time, there's no time, over and over again.  He's like that white rabbit with his pocketwatch, scampering around looking for a burrow or something.  That's prey behaviour, that is.  You wouldn't catch a cool croc rushing around like that.  No, we just lie in wait, pulling a classic move like the old log-float.  You can't get cooler than that.

So anyway, I wanted to put it on record that the Keeper isn't all that.  Even when he thinks he is.  If he was so cool then he woulda sold me on ebay last month.  And that yellow tie of his.  He couldn't even sell a tie.  OK, so he sold a jug thing, but anyone could of sold that jug thing.

So now I'm in charge of the big sale.  And we'll see.  We'll see.

Hasta manana

Carl

Carl takes on the classics

HOMER'S ILLIAD
(Source: Carl's Book Group)

Classics in a croc sense are classic moves.  You know, the old launch-out-of-the-water move; or the ever popular max-RPM-deathroll; or the crazy-belly-run.  That sort of thing.  So when the Keeper suggested I take on the classics in tonight's post, I was like hell yeh.

Well, unless there are any crocs reading, I reckon you won't be surprised to hear that human classics are a bit different.  A lot different.  They're books.  Oh well, when a croc says hell yeh, he's gotta follow thru.

ORWELL'S ANIMAL FARM
(Source: Carl's Book Group)

I started off with Homer's Illiad.  It was really good and everything until the Greeks started getting all sneaky.  Not that there's anything wrong with sneaky, of course: lying-in-wait-underwater is one of the croc classics I was talking about earlier.  No, the problem is, they went for a wooden horse to get into Troy. Obviously, if they wanted a cool, handcrafted, wooden animal, then they missed a trick.

Then I moved on to Animal Farm. That was even better than the last book.  It was like reading a recipe book.  Made me feel hungry.  All animals are entitled to eat, but some are more entitled than others.  Mmm suckling pig.

HARPER LEE'S MOCKINGBIRD
(Source: Carl's Book Group)

The last book I read was To Kill A Mockingbird.  That one was really weird.  I started off thinking it was about hunting for snacks, but it didn't turn out that way at all.  All them mockingbirds and finches and no crunchy treats to speak of.

Well, all in all it was a pretty ok evening, and I had a chance to bring the full force of a Crocodile-theoretical  analytical framework to three works of human fiction.  What do I mean 'human fiction'!  Silly Carl.  That's like saying crocodile biteyness.

Fiction is always human coz it's made-up.  Just like crocs are always bitey.

Happy reading/biting,



Carl

Carl goes berserk

So, I may be a wooden, handcrafted, charming crocodile etc., but I can be crazy!  You never know what side of old Carl you're gonna get.  Check me out in the picture below?  I'm unpredictable, on the edge, liable to go croco-berserk at any given moment... Watch out!  Crazy croc on the loose!!!!!!!!

CROCO-BERSERK
(Source: Carl's photo-shoot)

But that's crocs for you.  See, sometimes I have to connect with my roots as a wild animal, a vicious predator...

Ahem.  But in lucid moments, I have been known to provide an edifying and educational influence.  Talking of which...

Carl's Croco-fact #6

The incubation period for a croc is just 80 days, but we can live up to 80 years!

But don't worry... you won't have to put up with my berserk mood swings for that long... Unless you're crazy enough to bid on me that is... 

Uh-oh.  I feel another crazy coming on...

GGrrrruuuuuauuaghhhhHH!


Carl

Carl sets his own starting price

If you cast your mind back to the humble beginnings of this blog (see May 31 post), you might remember how I was none too impressed with the whole ebay thing.  No one bid on me.  No one.  I know, crazy right!  For one whole week I sat there, on show, like some... some item.  That word makes me shudder more than gnomes make me shudder.

Anyway, I made it clear to the Keeper that this time round I wanted to take a front seat in the marketing.  So apart from this blog, that means pricing.  I gotta set my own ebay starting price, I told him.  So he said ok.  Trouble is, crocs don't reqlly understand money, so the Keeper helped me come up with this ingenious idea.

It's called the Carl Price Randomiser.

THE CARL PRICE RANDOMISER
(Source: Carl's photo-shoot)

You can see a picture on the right there.

The Keeper spins me round and I land on 99p.  What do you think of that.  Apparently, that's the best price to start on.  That's what he told me.  I was well chuffed.

So now I got me price, all I need now is my ebay shop window.  Keep em peeled, humans.

Kerr-ching.


Carl

Carl gets retro

Crocs don't really have history as a concept.  We don't look back to such and such a period of time, at such and such individuals, doing such or such exploits.  If you're thinking about ancient Egypt and Sobek the crocodile god (see May 31 post) right now, then you're forgetting what I told you.  That's a human thing, coz it's made-up.  If you're thinking about the dawn of the crocodile during the Eocene, then pretty much ditto.  Although respect for remembering.  Means a lot.

Crocs live in the here and now.  Whether that's sitting on a storage heater or patrolling a stinky river.

SECOND PRIZE IN A BEAUTY CONTEST
(Source: Carl's photo-shoot)

But you've probably figured out that I'm not a normal croc.  And sometimes the Keeper's human culture rubs off on me.  Take for example this old advert that he showed me on youtube.  It's for a chocolate egg and he says the language is scottish: Kinder ad

It makes him laugh.  He must of watched it like ten times.  I think it stars some kind of gnome and you know how I feel about those.

Anyway, now he's decided it's time I did a retro photo-shoot.  Yeh, I just love that.  You can see one of the pictures on the right.  I didn't want to put the rest up.  They made me feel dirty.

OK, so that was my retro trip.  Back to the here and now.

Monday tomorrow...

Sleep tight,


Carl

Carl puts his foot in it

Yeh, so in yesterday's post (June 10), I mentioned using a dead Zippy out of Rainbow to make a bag.  Well it turns out that the human that did Zippy's voice died a couple of days ago.  Roy Skelton, his name was.  Didn't realise that at the time.  Crocs may be snappy, but they're not insensitive.  For example, take... oh, wait... I feel a fact coming on...

Carl's Croco-fact #5

You've heard of crocodile tears, right?  Crocs are sposed to cry from remorse when they munch on a human (yeh, right).  Well, actually it's true.  Only it's not remorse.  When we eat, air gets pushed through our sinuses and into our lacrimal glands, creating tears!  Cool, huh?

TWERP FRUIT
(Source: naturalbeautyblogger.com)

Now don't go confusing crocodile tears with alligator pears.  Alligator pears are basically avocados that have been named after a species of twerps.

Anyway, so we're not insensitive and no offense was intended.  There.

You know, from my perch on the storage heater, I can look through the window at the sun and showers and I'm kinda hoping for a rainbow.

Adieu


Carl

Carl's singing in the rain

SICK BAG
(Source: ioffer.com/i/prada-vitello-crocodile-tote-bag)

I'm not really singing in the rain.  The Keeper made me say that.  He's in a shitty mood for getting soggy trousers from walking home in the rain at lunchtime.  Keeps saying he's going to put me out in the sodden rooftop garden with Gnomeo.  Gnomeo is the Keeper's gnome and therefore a twerp, as established previously (see June 8 blog).  It's not the rain I mind, you see.  It's that gnome.

I just don't get it.

Rain is not really a problem for crocs.  Nothing much is, except for Prada.  Prada is the name of every crocodile's nemesis.  It's like Satan for humans; only Satan doesn't turn humans into fashion accessories for twerps.  That is the ultimate humiliation.  Check out that blue abomination above.  If they were gonna use any skin, you'd think they'd go for Zippy out of Rainbow.  My Keeper says you can get Zippy bags, too, so I spose there's some comfort in that.

So apparently, there's what you might call a drought in England at the moment.  Or parts of it at least.  When I mention that to the Keeper, he keeps making these menacing gestures towards the window to the rooftop garden.  Doesn't look like he's in a singing mood neither.

Stay dry,


Carl

Carl solves the timetabling problem

The Keeper is always going on about how difficult it is to do timetabling and rooming.  Says it's putting a pint into a half pint glass.  Which doesn't make any sense.  Crocs can spot nonsense a mile off.  And puppys, too.  Although that's mainly down to their delicious smell.

Anyway, what the Keeper doesn't know, is that crocs regularly solve the timetabling problem.  They do it at dinner time.

Picture this.  You got a nice, stinky river; shallow banks and overhanging branches either side.  Your croc is there, doing the old part-submerged log.  He checks the bank, the trees and the murky depths with barely a motion.  He's got it all covered.  Then he spots a lil monkey on an overhanging branch.  Then he spots a baby deer at the water's edge.  Then he spots a big, old fishy swimming around.

Timetabling problem #1

SAUTÉ-ED WILDEBEEST
(Source: waildlives.blogspot.com)

Three planned activities, three locations, but only one teaching resource (teaching, coz he intends to learn them a lesson).

What does he do?

1.  He silently pursues and devours the fishy.  Numnumnum.  Fishy.  The monkey and baby deer don't even notice coz it's all underwater, like..  Dinner can be stupid at times.
2.  Then he erupts from the river and drags the baby deer underwater and it's rolling time.  Baby deers make for delicious rolls.
3.  Stupid monkey, thinks he's safe once the splashing has stopped.  Uh-oh.  The croc powers up from the riverbed and, coming half out of the water, he snaps up the monkey.  Numnumnum.  Monkey.

Timetabling problem?  What timetabling problem?  Now, you're probably thinking, there's still a problem...

A BUSY TIMETABLE
(Source: democracyforthecartoons.blogspot.com)

Timetablng problem #2

Three activities but only one available resource. (Croc's belly that is)

What does he do?

No problemo.  He mashes em up together real good and hey presto.  You got yourself optimal utilisation of a belly resource.  And I gotta tell you, the flavour combination is something else!

So next time the Keeper moans about resources and activities and utilisation and wotnot, I'm just gonna give him the type of smile that only a croc can give.

Bon apetit

Carl

Carl just doesn't get gnomes

What is it with gnomes?  Why would you want one in your garden?  Specially coz they're always after your fish, with their little rods and wotnot.

Thinking about getting a gnome?  Don't bother.  They're twerps.  What you want is a handcarved, woodcrafted, ethnic and charming crocodile.  We'll still pinch your fish, but at least we're edgy.

My Keeper has a gnome.  But coz he's also got a handcarved, woodcrafted, ethnic and charming crocodile, then he's on the right side of cool.  Just.  Come the end of the month, he's done for though.  Coz that's when the general public get a second chance to buy yours truly and my Keeper's croc-lessness magnifies the twerpness of his gnome-fullness.

Second chance to buy... I'm like a flipping olympic ticket, I am.


CROC-OLYMPIC WRESTLING EVENT
(Source: ebay.com)



And talking of olympics, here's a run down of events that might be found in the Croc Olympics:

1.   100 Metres Zigzag (see May 30 blog)

2.   3000 Metres Peoplechase (only kidding)

3.   Synchronised Deathroll (see May 29 blog)

4.   Croc Putt

5.   Wrestling (see right)

6.   The Alligator Toss (they're twerps, see June 5 blog)

I could go on, but they get progressively worse.  What do you expect?  I'm a croc and new to this making things up business.

So, anyway.  Bin your gnomes, flex your eBay muscles and sit poised at your keyboard for the forthcoming sale of the century.

Hasta la vista

Carl

Carl appreciates fine art

THE ERUPTION...
(JMW Turner)

Art is a made-up thing.  And as we have already established (e.g. see May 31 blog), made-up things are pretty much exclusively human.  If a croc tried making something up he or she (see my fact below) would be laughed out of the swamp.  And that's the best-case scenario.

That doesn't mean we can't be learned about it.  Art.  Today, my keeper placed a couple of pictures in my line of vision.  To be honest, it makes a welcome change from the telly.

On the left, is "The Eruption of the Soufriere Mountains in the Island of St. Vincent".  Being a croc, I would prefer a snappier title. But, I like it.  It brings to mind the brutal volcanism of the Eocene, when crocs first hit the scene.  I like the flamey bit best.  And the painter didn't even see the eruption.  Mostly made-up, it was.

OK, time for a factual interlude.  Can't de doing with wall-to-wall made-up stuff.

Carl's Croco-fact #5

Whether a croc is a cow or a bull, depends on the temperature of the egg.  It's not genetic.  31.6 C gets a bull... anything else and you got a cow.  Basically.  Wild, huh?


THE VENUS OF URBINO
(Tiziano Veccellio)



Now, I'm a bull croc, right?  Yeh, I got needs, if you know what I mean.  But when the Keeper put "The Venus of Urbino" in front of me, I didn't know what to think.  Now, it's a well-known fact that human cows are the ugliest in the animal kingdom.  If you don't believe me, check out the picture (right).  See what I mean?  No scales; no pointy teeth; no bulging gizzard...  Minging.

There's nothing like seeing a scaley cow waddle bow-legged from the swamp, dripping with mud.  Ahem.  Calm down, Carl.

So this second picture was a bit of a challenge.  But you know what?  I like it, too.  Oh, she may not be a looker (my Keeper disagrees), but she knows how to bask.  That's a classic croc trait.  And you can't quite see in the pic, but she got her dinner stored at the foot of her basking spot.  It's a puppy (see June 3 blog).  Case she wants a snack, like.  That's the Crocodile-theoretic interpretation, at least.

Anyway.  I hope you enjoyed the pics.

Ciao

Carl

Carl sollicits comments

Sometimes it gets lonely being a one-of-a-kind, handcarved, woodcrafted and charming crocodile.  Anyone might think it's all rock and roll lifestyle; all photoshoots and Mr Sheen sessions.  But it's not like that.

Oh sure, I got a top class perch on the storage heater by the telly.  But I'm on my own.  The Keeper doesn't count.  He does all his human stuff and I can't really join in.  That's why I got this hobby, really.  Blogging.  It puts me out there.



DON'T BE A STRANGER
(Source: dancewithshadows.com)



It's not like that for humans.  If they get lonesome, they got their Miss Waleses or their sisters-in-law.

I dunno.  I spose it's coz it's Monday.  Mind you there is always an opportunity for a quick fact:

Carl's Croco-fact #4

The largest known crocodile was 6.2 metres long.  That's over eight times my length or around three and a quarter Keepers.  That's one big croc.

So I know it probably goes against human nature to get too close to a croc, if you have any comments on my blog or need to ask me a croco-question, don't be shy.

I won't bite.


Carl

Carl does racism

It's been a knackering weekend.  From my perch on the storage heater, I have watched an international football match and a tennis final.  Both matches featured my potential countrymen: the Swiss (see June 4 post).  Not sure what to make of that.

But, on the advice of my Keeper - who says he's got his own reasons - I declare my nationaility to be anything but Swiss.  Or Scottish.  He told me to add Scottish.  Humans are weird.

It's not like that with crocs.  We don't really do racist.  See, there are only two categories of thing for us: dinner and not-dinner.  You might argue we are racist in the sense of being anti-not-dinnerist, but you'd be on pretty shaky ground with that way of thinking.

However, the more I've hung around with humans, the more I start understanding racism.  So much so, that I've decided to have a crack at it myself.  Just for the blog, like.  And like them eugenicists, I'm gonna present my prejudice as fact:



CROCODILIAN EUGENICS
(Source: Encyclopedia Britannia)



Carl's Croco-fact #3

Alligators are twerps

There.  I done it.  And gators can't read, so I couldn't of picked a better target!  My keeper gave me that tip - says it's the same with the Scots.

Seriously, take a look at em (left) with their smooth snouts and their lack of upward-pointing teeth.  Man, they are big time twerps.

OK, so that's it for today.  My Keeper says he is making preparations for my sale on eBay and that I've gotta pose for a picture shoot.  Whatever.

Take it easy,

Carl

Carl wonders whether he is Swiss

I spose it's inevitable really, when you're about to be put on eBay as an "item"; when you are advertised as handcrafted, wood-carved or even charming.  It's inevitable that questions of Provenance arise.

Who am I?  Where did I come from?  I could look to the almighty Sobek (see May 31 post) for a pointer.  But just coz I'm a croc, doesn't mean I came from Egypt.  That's like saying that all potatoes come from Ireland or all dinosaurs come from Dorset.  Besides, Sobek is made-up.  That's a human thing.  And humans weren't around during the Eocene Epoch.  Unlike crocs.  That's when we hit the scene.

Course, when humans are searching for their identity, they don't normally go back to the Garden of Eden.  They usually go back to the first convenient and personally-appealing point in history they can find.  That's how come Barak Obama is Irish.  And all of the preceding 5 presidents.

I mean... spot the odd one out!*

CUCKOO CROC
(SOURCE: pigtown-design.blogspot.com)

So anyway, all this was running through my wooden, crocodilian mind earlier, when I was disturbed by my Keeper shouting, "You have got to be flipping joking!  You bunch of twerps!"  Or something like that.  He was watching England vs Switzerland.  It's a football match.  Turns out he doesn't like Switzerland much.  Coz when they were happy, it seem to make him annoyed.

Trouble is, I couldn't risk shouting for either side.  I couldn't.  Since, I don't know my Provenance, it is possible that I could actually be Swiss.  Well, as possible as anything.  Not all Swiss things are made out of chocolate or Nazi war gold.  That's a fallacy.  Some cuckoo clocks are handcrafted, wood-carved and even charming.

See my problem?

In the end it was a draw.  Just as well, really.

Take care,

Carl

* it's George W Bush, coz he's a twerp