Actually, this isn't strictly true. About 45% true, and by that means - NOT a lie. Basically, it all comes down to my love of yaks. I love them. In my experience it is perfectly reasonable (encouragable even) to nurture an indefinite concept of "love" towards undomesticated animals. I have friends who are passionate about llamas, tapirs, duck billed platypii and even bees. And judging by www.ilovebees.com passion doesn't even come close to describing some peoples affections. Therefore it is perfectly reasonable that I have this love of yaks.
Ok, again, not strictly true. About 30% true so embarrassingly a definite decrease on quantities of truth compared to the last not-strictly-true-but-definitely-not-a-lie statement I made. No, I can't hide it anymore. FRANK GALLAGHER. It's true. My love of yaks stems from Frank Gallagher. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Frank Gallagher here is a crash course introduction: http://media.sbs.com.au/shows/upload_media/site_45_rand_1888975559_frank.jpg
I feel this sums him up pretty well. Just for the record, he is a fictional character from the TV series Shameless. Not a cousin or a lecturer from Northampton university. Basically, he drinks, smokes, swears and talks, all the fucking time. Ironically, though most of this talking is based around complaining about other people talking, hence the epic, wonderful, poetic phrase: "yak yak fucking yak". Amazing. I mean, that is amazing. How many times have I sat and listened to some mind-numbingly boring sod yak (eeeeh) on and on about how they: "once saw two magpies in a row and they couldn't remember whether that was good or bad luck, just like how when you see a cat run in front of you if it's left to right is that good? Or if they run right to left does that mean you might die in a freak yachting accident?" This invariably leads onto a never ending story of said person's history of yachting and cats and the many reasons why never the twain should meet. I have, nevertheless developed techniques to survive such stories with both my eardrums in tact (the temptation being naturally to gouge them out with a gherkin - if a gherkin is to hand).
Believe me though, it hasn't been easy. I endured many years of, at times, searching for sharp objects or blunt objects or frankly anything which would save me from this boring bastard and perhaps mutilate me in such a way that I would never have to interact with them or indeed any boring individual ever again. Obviously I never quite followed through with this, and usually I just ended up drinking whatever is to hand. Even a non-alcoholic beverage I would consume with gusto, kidding myself it was pumped with booze so I could get my tragic kicks off the placebo effect. The major downside of this, was the vicious circle effect. After a few drinks I became afflicted with a curse which affects pretty much everybody - me especially - that one becomes filled with a sense that whatever you have to say (and unfortunately there always seems to be so much to say) is the most interesting thing, ever. Fact. So you see! I would become like the original boring sod! Endlessly boring whichever poor bastard happened to be within a 5 meter radius - no one is safe. It would always end pretty much the same way, hungover and mortified the next day I would be filled with inner rage.
Somewhere, one day, there was a shining light and a booming voice... Actually this is romantacising shameless beyond belief... Anyway I basically realized how much help the phrase "yak yak fucking yak" can make. It just eases the boredom, I can tune out completely and think to myself about how I this person is yakking away and therefore no need to concentrate. It's like its own disclaimer. Plus, what a word. Yak! I mean, epic word, it's got it all - a soft y, short a and the harsh k to finish it off with a bang. Ok, starting to yak on about the word yak now (jokes) so will control myself.
Thank you Frank Gallagher for sparking my initial interest in yaks. I am pleased to say that is has evolved. Having done rudimentary research (although, obviously I would love to spend all my time looking at pictures of yaks, sadly there just aren't enough hours in the day) I can confirm that the actual animals are also, ace.
They make me happy.
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