Carl's "staycation"

I thought this "staycation" lark was going to be rubbish, but actually been quite good fun!

Even though it was supposed to be a kind of holiday, I found myself being really busy.  I've been on three different excursions and I have to say, while the The Keeper wasn't as creative as I wanted him to be, I found all three trips out to be lots of fun!

Yes, imagine that!  Me.  Having fun!  Well, imagine no more, for I had it aplenty!

The first trip was to the zoo!  Oh, yes.  You read that right!  The ZOO!  It was awesome.  OK, so it wasn't the kind of zoo that has crocodiles (obviously, a zoo with crocodiles is the best kind of zoo, in my opinion) but there were plenty of other animals that satisfied my interest.

Kudus not to be confused with kudos.
Kudus are a kind of antelope and tastier!
[Photo: Jack Gilbert]

Mainly they satisfied the part of my interest controlled by my stomach (antelope, hogs and other specimens you may find loitering carelessly on the shore of a certain crocodile's favourite watering-hole...), but there were others that satisfied my wider appreciation of the animal kingdom.

The predators.

To be fair it was a really, really hot day (The Keeper scored extra kudos points for that) and they weren't looking their most predatory.  Even so, I could appreciate their power and why they occupy places towards the top of the food chain.  Got to respect them, even though they're just big cats!

Even though they're just big cats,
you have to respect tigers.
[Photo: Jack Gilbert]

As if that wasn't a big enough surprise, The Keeper then took me to the beach a couple of days later!  I can't remember the last time I saw the sea (actually, I can. It was when The Keeper whisked me away to Scotland two years ago - hint, hint Keeper...).

OK, so it wasn't the South of France, or somewhere fancy, but it was good to bask in the blistering heat (yet more kudos points for The Keeper) on the shore of a large body of water again, even if that water was a little bit on the salty side for my liking.  Despite that I was disappointed when it was time to go home (mainly because there were some delicious-looking twerpy puppies heading our way).

A Carl's-eye view of The White
Cliffs of Dover...I've only got little legs!
[Photo: Jack Gilbert]

And today, I've just got back from a long walk.  Well, The Keeper did all the walking.  We went to see the legendary White Cliffs of Dover!  Usually, I see them in pictures and it's from out at sea, so it was a little different (not to mention a little weird) seeing them from the top.  I must confess that being up so high did unsettle me.  Not much unsettles me, and I hate to admit it, but it appears that really big heights do.  It's not natural for a crocodile to be up so high, so it must be something in our genes that does it.

I think I'll have to work on getting used to heights.  It didn't seem to bother the hundreds of other people who were walking along the cliffs.  Some of them were little children and twerpy puppies!  I can't have them strolling around along cliff tops all bolshy and happy while I'm looking all nervous and anxious.  That just won't do!

So, that's my first "staycation" over.  I still can't bring myself to write the word without the quotes, but at least the idea isn't quite as abhorrent to me now as it was.  So it was rather good and I enjoyed it.  I won't be so anxious about the next one, but I would prefer a proper holiday somewhere far away (Hint, hint Keeper...).

Oh, I've changed.  I never would have said that before this week...

Oh well, back to normality this week.  Whatever that is!

Carl has a really long weekend

I'm on holiday!  Isn't that great?

The answer is "no".  It is not great.  When The Keeper told me that I didn't have to work for a week, I got really excited (although to be fair, that may have been the sun yesterday that did that).  I thought I was in for a week of sun, soggy shallows, slow food (fast food tends get away) in an exotic place far from home.  What do I get?  A cold, grey Bank Holiday at home with His Boringness.  It's not exactly what I call an action holiday.

And it's not just the Bank Holiday I'm getting.  Oh, no! I've been given the whole week off!  Surely, the ultimate "long weekend"?  Well, yes, you think so, wouldn't you?

"Where are you going, Carl?" I hear you ask (Go on.  Say it.  Out loud.  I dare you.  I don't care where you are.  Just say it.  Even if you're with people. They won't mind.  Did you say it?  Did you?  I bet you did... Let me know if you did).

Basking in the sun.  Somewhere hot (for a change).
[Photo: Jack Gilbert]

Perhaps you're thinking The Keeper's taking me to the Florida Everglades to see some distant relatives.  Or maybe somewhere hot like the South of France, or the Canary Islands?

Nowhere!  That's where I'm going!  Nowhere!  We're staying right here!  No sun, no soggy shallows, no food - fast, or slow - nowhere new and exciting, no nothing!  The Keeper calls it a "staycation".  I'm sure that's not even a real word and he should be ashamed of even thinking of using it.  The cheapskate is staying at home and he's making me stay here too.  Thanks a bunch, Keeper!  I can't contain my complete lack of excitement at going nowhere and seeing his fizzog every day for the next six days.

He could have at least waited until we had some sunshine.  It's a Bank Holiday, for crying out loud!  Does he really expect the British weather to give up its well established millennia-old pattern and actually give us some sun this week?  We had our one day of sunshine yesterday.  I knew it couldn't last.  Why do I let myself get so excited?  I should have known.

All I can say is, The Keeper had better be blooming creative with some day trips out this week if he wants to get back into my good books.

Oh, I've just checked online and apparently "staycation" is a word (because, as we all know, the Internet is always right).  OK, The Keeper can have that one.  I suppose he can't be wrong all of the time.

Wish me luck.  This could be the longest weekend ever.

I'm going to unpack my jumpers again...

Carl turns to the Dark Side...

You wait years for a jumper to come along then two turn up within the space of two weeks!

That's right, I have another jumper.  I think this one suits me far better.  It reflects my deep, dark, brooding nature.  It also scares the living daylights out of the local cats and twerpy puppies (and by that I mean it really scares them, not that it scares them like the 1987 film "The Living Daylights"...that's not scary).

Me in my new 'Dark Side' jumper.  Do you think it's more 'me'?
[Photo: Jack Gilbert]

The Keeper says it makes me look like I've turned the the Dark Side.  I don't know what that means, but he keep calling me Darth Crocous, breathes heavily then laughs and leaves the room humming a disturbing tune.  Trust me, for me to find something disturbing it must be truly disturbing!  Although it might just be his humming that makes it sound that way.

It's OK.  I'll get my own back on him sometime.  It may be tomorrow, or it may be ages yet.  I can wait.  I have a very long memory.  I'm a crocodile.  We have to have long memories.  We have to remember under which log we jammed the last poor soul we death-rolled.  We like to leave them a while to let them 'mature' in the watering hole and that takes time.  It's not like remembering to finish that lovely piece of Brie you bought recently and accidentally got pushed to the back of the fridge (is it, Keeper?  Is it?  C'mon, throw it away!  It's making the place stink!  And I'm used to eating things that have been wedged under logs for three weeks, for crying out loud!).

Anyway, perhaps I should embrace my dark side.  The nice weather didn't stay and it's made me grumpy again.  And the weather is always grey and grumpy so that would fit.  Whatever happened to Global Warming?  I'm a crocodile wearing a rather fetching woolen jumper in April.  If you ask me, that's more like Global Freezing than Global Warming!

At least I have my snazzy new jumper.  That's one 'Dark Side' I definitely want to embrace!

Carl's Back (again)!

It's warm again!  At last!  I can sit out in the sun bask and watch the world go by...

Yes, I'm back.  Have you missed me?  I know it's been a while (a very long while), but it's been so interminably cold for what seems like forever.  Even when it was warm I couldn't bring myself to write anything.  But I'm back now and hopefully so is the warmth.

Why has it been so cold?  Surely, whoever's in control of the weather knows that crocodile's don't do well in the cold, right?  We're reptiles.  Cold blooded beasts.  We don't just lie around basking in the heat of the sun just because we enjoy it...

It's warm again and I can go exploring outside (and bask)!
[Photo: Jack Gilbert]

OK, so yes, we do really enjoy basking in the sun, but it's also something that we need to do.  Basking in the sun keeps us going, gives us energy to swim, hunt, eat and do more basking.

And it's not just me that's noticed that it's still cold.  My keeper has been wandering around his flat muttering about "blasted heating still on in April" and "should have packed the jumpers away by now".  Quite frankly, I've seen some of his jumpers and he should be more concerned about burning them rather than packing them away!  Maybe that would have been a better way for them to keep him warm.

He has a point though.  Even I have had to give in and put something woolly on.  Well, I had a little help.  A nice lady, who knows The Keeper, put me in this woolly jumper.  She gave me a warm, furry bed to sleep on too!  Warm at last!  I can't tell you how happy that made me.  Actually, you can see in the photo how happy it made me.  I'm actually smiling (for once).  Why didn't The Keeper think of giving me a jumper?  I should fire him and make the nice lady my new keeper.

Me in my jumper and on my furry bed (Photo: Jack Gilbert)

Although, I'm not sure if the jumper suits me or not.  I'm a crocodile.  I don't normally wear clothes, yet alone woolly clothes.  I don't anything about fashion. The only other animals I know that wear clothes are twerpy puppies that walk round with little waistcoats, or rain coats over their fur coats.  Why do they do that?They've got fur and then have the audacity to wear something over the top. I've only got scales and I'm cold-blooded.  And what do I wear? Nothing!

They don't know they're born, if you ask me...

Anyway, I should be happy.  No, I am happy.  I spent today sitting outside with the Keeper and enjoyed the sunshine (I also gave the local cats the evil eye).  I've made a new friend and it's warm again, so I can start going out, watch what happens and and tell you all what's going on and what I think about it.

I haven't got anything earth-shatteringly important to say this week.  I just wanted to let you know I'm back...

Carl tries to be a fan

I know I said in my last post that I was back and said how I was going to be really regular - as in posting things on my blog, not the other kind of being regular...that's all hunky-dory thanks - but there been so much to do over the last few weeks.  I've just been far too busy to post anything.  OK, maybe busy isn't the right word.  I've been occupied, shall we say.

I've become a fan.  Yeah, I'm as surprised as you probably are.  Never thought in a million years I'd hear myself say those four little words.  Although, thinking about it, I have been a fan of things before.  I've always been a fan of eating puppies for example.  And I've been a fan of the old "death-roll" method of killing prey since I was a junior croc' (huge fan of the old "death-roll" me).

But they're just preferences compared to being a real fan. A sports fan.  Everyone's a sports fan at the moment.  Or so it seems.  And I'm discovering that there are so many different sports you that can be a fan of...

Carl is back!

It probably seems to you like ages since I posted anything.  That's the problem with you humans, always thinking about things like time and what you do with it and where it goes.  I'm a crocodile and we can lie in wait for a very long time for a juicy piece of prey to come along.  We have to wait until the moment is right to pounce and drag our dinner-to-be into the depths, then we have to wedge it under a log or something and wait longer still for it to rot a little at the bottom of the river before we actually eat it (and you thought it waiting three minutes for your microwave meal was a long time...).

So you see for a crocodile time is just not worth marking.

Anyway, I'm back.  And with a new keeper.  Don't ask what happened to the last two.  It's a desperate tail that may take some time for me to get over.  Maybe I'll blog about it when it's not so fresh and painful (and I run out of interesting stuff to tell you).  However, this new keeper has promised to look after me properly - although I'm not entirely sure he realises what that will actually entail.  Poor, foolish human...

I have to say though he's made a promising start because the first thing he did was that he whisked me away on an exotic holiday.  OK, so it was an exotic holiday to Scotland, but trust me, when you've been stuck on an office partition for the last three years anywhere is exotic!

And I saw it all! Lochs, stock and barrel.  The lochs especially were really cool.  I'm a crocodile.  Lurking like a bored log in a river, lake, loch - whatever - that's my thing.  It's what I live to do.  So you can imagine my excitement when I saw how many lochs there are!

Me on holiday - see how chilled I am?
(source: my new keeper)

That's me by one in the picture. Look at all that lovely water.  It's a big loch.  Stretches as far as my crocodile eyes could see.  OK, it's a salt water loch and I'm a fresh water crocodile but it's been so long since I've seen water I don't care.  It's wet and wavy.  That's all that matters.  But see, I'm hiding in the grass.  Just like the old days.  I've not lost my touch.

Oh and I guess those mountains are cool too.  If you like that sort of land-based frippery.

But the point is I'm relaxing.  See how chilled I look there?  Yes, I know I'm cold-blooded and chilled is my natural state when the sun's not out, but there I'm intentionally chilling.  I'm content and stress-free.  I've not really been that relaxed before and it was quite a revelation.  And it didn't happen just the once either.

You can't see the cowardly birds hiding on the rock - but I can
(source: my new keeper again)

See, that's me beside the sea.  Yes, more salt water, I know.  My new keeper doesn't seem to understand yet that I'm a freshwater crocodile but I'm working on that.  He's new and has much to learn about crocodiles.  But can you see how relaxed I am there too?  It's mainly because I'm imaging eating one of those cowardly birds who spent the whole time hiding out on that rock, even so I'm a happy snapper there.

I've been told holidays are stressful, costly and leave you more tired needing time to recover.  Well not this one. This one was truly refreshing and invigorating.  I feel more energised and ready to face the world again.

And I want to go back to Scotland.  Yes, I very definitely want to go back, just as soon as I can convince my new keeper to take me back.  All those lovely lochs to explore!  Thousands of them!  Hopefully even some freshwater lochs this time.  How brilliant is that?  Apparently I've got a distant relation living up there too.  A very distant relation - Loch Ness is a long way away - and she is very old...

But that's for later.  Right now I'm back home and ready to face the world again!  Now where shall I go for my next holiday...?

Carl

Carl enjoys his new job

Well it's been quite a couple of weeks, I can tell you. I'm an employee now.  Well not paid or anything... although it wouldn't hurt if they slipped me the odd wildebeest/puppy.  No, I am what you would call an honorary employee.  And it's all good.


Keep Carl
Source: Rockhard Creations



I no longer sit on the storage heater, watching the telly.  Telly was getting a bit boring anyway.  Now, I sit on a desk divider in a big old office.  And it's all going on there.  I've learnt a lot.  I now know loads of really specialist job stuff, like facebook and football and even buses.  Buses are what humans use because they don't have a powerful propulsive tail, like crocs.



I'm also starting to understand what it means to be a mascot.  What it is, is that every now and again you get fondled thoughfully.  It's like I'm a source of inspiration.  And from what I understand, things been going well since I've been there.

Anyway.  Just thought I'd check in.  It's been ages since I blogged.  Almost two weeks.  It's not laziness, though; it's busyness.  And right now, busyness is good.

Best regards

Carl

Carl gets a job

One minute I was an ebay 'item', the next, I'm getting a job offer.  Funny old world, innit?

You see, the person that bought me wants me to be a mascot at my Keeper's work.  A team mascot.  When the Keeper told me, I got a bit excited (cf June 30 post).  You see, I thought he said I was gonna eat a mascot.  I figured a mascot was one of those dog crosses, like a labradoodle.  You now, part mastiff, part scottie dog.  I thought, well I've never tried that, but I can be quite adventurous with food.

I'M NOT THIS KIND OF MASCOT
(Source: arsenal.com)

Anyway, that's not what a mascot is.  It's actually like a symbol; a source of inspiration, the Keeper says.  So I got him to show me some mascots on the internet and I'm not sure.

Sometimes they seem to be humans in big fluffy costumes... like Gunnersaurus Rex. (see right).

Crocs don't like pretending to be what they're not.  Unless it's a log, obviously.  But that's for dinner reasons.

Turns out, though, that I can just be myself.  I just gotta hang out and be me.  That, I can do.

Happy July


Carl

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