The Brady Bunch taught me long ago that tikis are cursed. A giant tarantula on Peter's chest... Greg can't surf perfectly... obviously a tiki is to blame. Spiders and surfing wipe outs don't just happen on their own. And so I have to side with the Bradys on this one... tikis are cursed.
The greatest curse of the tiki is its inability to move its arms for swatting or wiping, combined with the frequent company it shares with tropical birds. And even more of a curse to the tikis - the birds sing the exact same songs all day long on a 21-minute loop.
Birds are a curse to tikis. Tikis are a curse to humans. Humans eat birds, flip birds, and carve tikis. It's a complicated cycle, but a cycle indeed.
Hey... this is my 100th post! Thanks to all of you who have kept me going with your visits and comments. I'm having a good time with the blog... a hundred more posts are on the way shortly. Well, not too shortly.