Happy Ginger Day
(For Conan, your close-up, love and smoochies FMC XX)
A wise man once said, with great Ginger comes great flexibility!
Behold, Walker, Ginger Ranger, a ginger so fierce so hairy, so beardy, so MANLY, so ginger, that all must tremble in his wake. If Carrot Top be the lovestudmuffin of Ginger town, then Walker Ginger Ranger is the lieutenant of ginger justice.
Avast! AIEEEEEE! he will brook no brunette uppityness, HIYAH! nor blondie belligerence. KAMPOOOOO He, with his ginger beard and snazzy high-waisted pants, knows what is what, who is who and where i where. He needs not cape, not super poser, just stretchy denim and man boots. AAAAAAAAHHHAHHH!
Why if we could entice Walker Ginger Ranger to visit our fair shores crime as we know it would cease immediately. Puppies and kittens would run for election and taxi drivers would drive swiftly and in silence. But alas this is never to be for Ireland is too small a land mass to contain such a robust hue of awesome masculine kilowatt ginger power. We would implode with awe, leaving only the Spanish to fish our water where once our fair isle stood.
No, it is simply not to be.
But cry not gingeroids, I salute you Walker Ginger Ranger, champion of the girdle, roundhouse kicker of slow mo and fist of considerable fury, I salute you and wish you many more Gingerdays to come.