The king is dead. Long live the king! Or so the saying goes. But behold, in his magnificence, the king of yams. This guy really reminds of something out of a Jim Henson movie. I can almost hear the high, squeaky regal voice, referring to himself in the royal “we.” Although I do have to question his lack of legs. Not because yams possess legs, as they don’t, although sometimes we may stumble upon a slightly deformed sweet potato, but because if you focus on the picture, and imagine how thrones have a space for one’s buttocks, you’ll realize this cajun king is sort of propping himself up via the armrests and his trusty, royal scepter. His “body” is not in a seated position at all. And not to play too much on the maleness here (as the gendering lines up on this one), as obviously a king is usually male, and he does have a stately goatee, but his head is vaguely penis shaped.
Still, “It is the fool’s prerogative to point out that the emperor wears no clothes, but the emperor remains the emperor and the fool remains the fool.” He’s royalty. I’m not. I wish I had a bitchin’ cape and crown. Surprised he has no elegant rings, though.