Bring On The Alpacas!

Disclaimer: No crimes have been committed against any alpacas during the creation of this blog post (yet). 

I've decided to become a farmer. 

For those of you who follow me (and could you move back a bit? I'm feeling kind of stalked), I dabbled a bit in gardening last year. Actually, I dabbled in gardening via Jay, my proxy, because everyone knows I don't go outside nor do I do physical labor. Last year's garden was fun because we accidentally grew a pumpkin patch, and it was surprisingly rewarding. We have raised planters for our little hobby, but not being professionals at this, we didn't realize pumpkins march to the beat of their own drummers. By fall, our pumpkin patch had spread far and wide to all corners of our yard as well as our neighbor's. But we didn't have to cough up money for Halloween Jack O'Lanterns, and we were pleased. 

Fascinated and motivated by our modest harvest last year, this year I've been perusing the seed catalogs to hopefully expand my gardening repertoire (via my proxy of course). While looking at one of the catalogs, I discovered a pumpkin seed that can supposedly deliver 100-pound pumpkins. No, that is not a typo. No, my retarded math isn't rearing its ugly head. ONE. HUNDRED. POUNDS. Those are State Fair babies and I am totally psyched. My bubble bursting proxy, however, is not. He declines to plant these. He thinks we have no use for them. He would be wrong. 

This discovery of gargantuan pumpkins coincides with my decision to steal an alpaca. As I stared at them the other day driving down Alpaca Way*, I started REALLY looking at their setup and realized those fluffy loves are literally ripe for the picking. I pointed out to Jay that I could easily swipe one in the middle of the night. Not even addressing the legal ramifications or the damage of thieving someone else's alpaca, he pointed out that outside of a farm, our own suburban locale would provide very little privacy for a stolen alpaca in our yard, and no matter how badly I want them to, alpacas can't live in the house. (Does anyone know if an alpaca can climb stairs?) 

Here's how the pumpkins fit in: I was anticipating Jay's objection of the monster punks and delivered my coup de grace -  The State Fair pumpkins would SHIELD the stolen merchandise from outside view. Other than a satellite, no one would really see him among my ridiculous Lance Armstrong steroid-injected pumpkins. Our neighbors would be fascinated by our amazing collection of huge orange gourds and the (seemingly) little alpaca would comfortably walk among them, undiscovered and fantastically mine. 

Not convinced of my ability to grow 100-pound pumpkins, steal an alpaca, AND hide it in our yard among the pumpkins, Jay still has yet to agree to this plan. But I know he'll come around. He always does.  

*It's actually called the McDonald's Road.
** It's actually not called the McDonald's Road, but I can't remember any of the roads here 'cuz they all have annoying numbers.