My Primitive Life

This is Primitive Bob, the husband of Margo, aka Choose Moose.

Now the Moose had a special order for some primitive pickles, and I just had to tell the story of how they came to be. Now I must warn you ahead of time that this story may be familiar to the older crowd, but maybe just plain silly for the younger readers. And if that is you, I will post a video at the end that will help you out. So with all of that being said, let’s get on with the primitive pickle story.

The Moose was riding her motorcycle down a mountain road at about 150 miles per hour, making primitive ornies.

On one side of the mountain road there was a mountain, and on the other side there was nothing.  There was just a cliff and the air. And she wasn’t paying attention. Now you know that is dangerous.

All of a sudden a threaded needle flew out of her hand. That threaded needle got caught on a yield sign. Now the yield sign didn’t give, the thread didn’t break, and she held on tight.  She made a sharp turn off of the road. Luckily she didn’t go into the mountain, but went over the cliff.

Well all of a sudden she was going 150 miles per hour sideways and 500 feet down at the same time. She was looking for the cops, because she knew that it was illegal.

Well, she knew that was it. She knew that she didn’t have much time left. So she decided to make one last primitive ornie for the world. A pickle! She took out some fabric. Took out some thread and a needle. And she began to sew.

Now she knew that it was not the best primitive ornie that she had ever made, but she didn’t have time to change it!

Now the amazing part of the story is that she didn’t die. She landed on top of a police car, and it died.

I know that this story will be hard for some of you to believe, but this is how the first primitive pickle came to be.

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