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Oh boy is it fun running with a wild pack of adolescent blimps! It wasn't so long ago, way before I had this strange medallion of mysterious origin sewn into my head, that I was a young pup myself, running wild in the streets of my home town, scrapping for a crust of stale bread, being beaten by passers-by, then having to give up the stale bread crust to Rumio, the head of the Street Urchin Union. Yes, those were the days.
But really this is way better. We swoop through the mountain valleys, chasing herds of deer and bunnies, then follow the rivers to the oceans, occasionally supping on a wild helium spring to refresh ourselves, then over the hills and far away to do it all again! And all the blimps are developing quite nicely, with shimmering sheens of opalescent pinks and purples on their bellies and fins. It's hard to believe that a time will soon come when they truly leave the nest and set off on their own.
Oh boy do blimps grow up fast! Seems like just the other day I was watching them take their first glides, cleaning up their little helium burps. But now they've grown into a small pack, with instincts as strong as any wolves or coyotes. They've got a ton of energy, so I take them out on runs in the Spatuloso to hone their skills, hurtling through the thunderheads, and finding scents in the clouds and chemtrails. I need to be sure they can control their impulses, or at least be sure that I can.
Oh boy being an airship captain is hard work! Especially when the whole crew leaves you. They weren’t happy about being baby blimp caregivers, so they all took their remaining shares of the coconuts and went to seek their fortunes.
But the magic ancient alien medallion that’s sewn into my head assures me I’ve made the right choice. And the baby blimps are becoming more manageable as we get into a routine. Also they really like it when I sing songs and read books at circle time.
Oh boy taking care of baby blimps is a big job! As soon as you get the last one down for a fluffy cloud nap the first one wakes up and it starts all over again, singing blimpy lullabies and rocking them to sleep in the moonlight. Or the sunset. Or the sunrise. Or at noon.
And the toddler blimps are their own kind of handful, tearing around the sky and bumping into each other and falling down. And don't get me started about the biters!
Turns out didn't just invest in this blimp farm, but we bought the farm! And it's months till any of them are big enough to leave the nest. The crew is feeling a bit put out, because this is lots harder than sitting under a palm tree drinking coconut milk. They're not really feeling their nurturing sides right now.
Oh boy do I love blimp nurseries! All those newborn blimps, still dripping with embryonic helium, perched on the spindly tendrils of pearly cloud spiralling out from the Mother Ship in the purple sky. This truly is one of our most precious resources, and the crew and I stand in awe of its magnificence. We really did make the right choice about sinking our tremendous coconut-currency windfall into this new investment opportunity, and are sure that we've put our money and our trust into the right hands.
Speaking of, where did those blimp caregivers go? We just transported our coconut riches to their ship, and they seem to have disappeared off into the clouds.... and these baby blimps are starting to cry. Hey you blimp caregiver people! Come back here!
Oh boy this medallion in my head is starting to ACHE! It’s been trying to tell me something ever since we started rolling in all our coconut-currency dough. And that is that true happiness doesn’t come from mere wealth accumulation, but from making the world a better place.
Which is why we’ve decided to invest our newly-found riches in Blimp Nurseries! You know—those spindly cotton cloud constructions where blimps are born, crawling along the vapor trails like a million baby spiders leaving the nest? Those!
If we can help grow the next generation of airship travel, imagine the impact on the world! The culture! The economy! A blimp in every aerodrome! Children will ask their parents “Can I borrow the keys the the blimp?” Consumer goods delivered by air as part-time jobs for the poor! All the world’s wrongs righted.
So tomorrow we meet with a blimp nursery investment firm. Time to put this hairy nut money to work!
Oh boy this coconut currency is hot hot hot! Right after my TED Talk we had our ICO (Initial Coconut Offering) and we hit our coconut cap in 8 minutes. EIGHT MINUTES! Previous to that, we 1) fully executed our Private Coconut Sale, 2) put roughly 25% into distribution along our trade route, and are 3) retaining the remaining 25%. Which means we've got a dozen coconuts left. Hmmmm.
I know a lot of people are saying #HODLTHOSENUTS, which is great, but we'd really love to see some of those coconuts on the Atlnut exchanges. That's why, if you use your coconuts today to pay the Spatuloso to move your coconuts to any nodes along the highly decentralized Coconut Network, we'll "airdrop" a coconut right on your house! Coconut currency will literally be raining from the sky. Place your orders today!
Oh boy do I like money! Being the captain has its way of focusing your mind, and what the Spatuloso needs is cold cash on the barrelhead if we want to keep the ship running ship shape, what with oil changes and new combobulators and such. Actually the oil isn't a problem since we've converted to pure coconut oil--a byproduct of the incredible surplus of drupes given to us by the natives for our heroic acts in the islands. So not we've got a ship full of coconut and are ready to take the world by storm with our miraculous discovery.
As usual, the medallion in my head is showing me the way, and if we want to monetize these hairy spheres to maximum effect, it's telling me not to sell them as food, but as a new kind of currency! If you really want to be "off the radar" of "the man," then you shouldn't be using debit and credit cards, you should use my coconuts! There's a finite supply, so scarcity is no problem. We just need to drum up demand. Which is why I've got a TED Talk coming up, to discuss using my coconuts as a new, decentralized currency that's going to change the world! Be sure to subscribe to my channel and give it a thumbs up on the TED Talk site!
Oh boy do I like coconut. These islands are thick with them, and the natives have been treating us to coconut cream pie, coconut ice cream, roasted coconut puddIng, coconut milkshakes, coconut macaroons, six layer coconut cake with passion fruit filling, coconut mango frozen yogurt, coconut lemon meringue, coconut brownie bars, caramelized pineapple sundaes with coconut, coconut pavlovas, creamy mango-coconut terrine, coconut baked alaska, coconut flan, and splendid coconut bars.
I keep track of them in my coconut log, and am going to use the recipies to stir up excitement when we return to the mainland with all these coconuts.
Oh boy was I hungry! Not that I didn't eat great on Volcanic Island, but it'd been ages since I had a nice Squid-in-a-Hole or a Moss Burger. All I had to do was think about those sweet sweet fragrances and the medallion in my head told me which way to head the ship. I'm really getting the hang of this captaining thing!
So, after a few thousand miles of open ocean, we came to a pod of food carts on a pleasant little beach. We parked the ship and tumbled down the rope ladders and with our pockets stuffed full of gold from the immortal alien-human hybrid people we rushed to the vendors. Mmmmm mmmm mmm was it good! We cleaned them out. But then as we were sitting on the beach watching the sunset and letting all that great food settle, the Food Cart Mafia showed up! They started shaking down the vendors and taking away all that gold we just paid them.
"Men!" I cried. "And women! And theys! And shims and fers!" I cried, not wanting to be exclusive. "There are wrongs happening right here on this beach, and we, the crew of the Spatuloso, must stand up against all wrongs! Amirite??!"
And even though we were all so full of the greasy wonder, and having some heartburn, we were still a scary enough bunch of angry sailors that we made those Food Cart Mafia jerks give back the gold and run off. And the food card vendors were so happy they gave us Crème brûlée.
It's good to be the Captain.