Yesterday, I needed to catch up on Dexter. Instead of torrenting the episodes, I was lazy and streamed them online from what can only be described as an "iffy" website.
The experience reminded me why I prefer downloading; I was confronted with countless advertisements. They ran the gauntlet from an online dress-this-Barbie game to an offline eat-my-shorts event. Some were loud. Others were silently gaudy.
Then, I was smacked in the eyes by the most beautifully crafted ad I've ever, ever peered upon. I wept in exultation. Like a pirate in love, I tearfully smiled into a crusty bowl of hard water. What was previously confusing - the appeal of mayonnaise, card-counting, astral physics, how to start a garden - was suddenly clear. Whatever a lemur scream sounds like, I want that sound to play on repeat at my wedding instead of "Here Comes the Bride."
Thank you, Duke Lemur Center, for advertising to me.
I won't go, because I assume I can't afford to gaze in-person upon such good looking lemurs. Not only is there the entrance fee, but I have to consider the cost of all the lost time I'll have at work reflecting on how great it was.
Seriously, a personal tour? How do the lemur tour guides traverse the language barrier? They must have some high-tech translation software over at Duke.
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