Our village was central to the supply for villages across the country.
New people would come in, or existing inhabitants would eventually breed new stock.
Then it was just waiting for another village to give one of us a call.
“Hi, Are you an idiot ? “
I’ll never forget where I was the day I took the call.
I was on the phone.
“Yes. I’m an idiot”
There were so many villages missing an idiot.
Ours was a village of idiots waiting to be assigned.
Every village needs an idiot. Our village was in high demand.
It was a real status thing. I was privileged.
That’s what they told me.
Imagine being in a village full of idiots, then suddenly moving to a new village where you are the only idiot within miles.
It was like being famous.
I was one of the last idiots to leave the village.
After I left, the old village phone stopped ringing.
I blame social media.
Everybody was now an idiot.
It was time for me to go home.
I’m so sorry this happened to you.
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We have a giant orange village idiot running our country. Can you designate him for assignment please?
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[…] Grace is an honorary member of my old village. […]
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[…] I used to be the architect in my old village […]
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Where do I apply?
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[…] I’m driving through the suburbs or just in my village […]
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I don’t know any village idiots, but Attila The Hun was a pillage idiot (not that I knew him, but one of his descendants (Donald TheTrump) is pillaging everything he can get his tweets on (and it takes a village to enable him).
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🙂 🙂 He was one of the first out or the village to get the call…
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[…] between considering lilies, I went back to my old village hoping my wisdom would stick like chewing gum to a prophets […]
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[…] The other guy was an idiot. […]
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[…] used to live in a small town,more of a village […]
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[…] I heartily recommend the hair spaghetti and I will be ordering more of it. The pork flavoured edible lipstick should come in more flavours. I would prefer quince. I would still buy it, but I am someone very careful about their social reputation so wouldn’t wear it around my village. […]
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