Now then, listen well, my fine companions, for 'tis the tale of the audacious audacity of Audacity CBD, that famous elixir born of hemp and vaudeville. This mischievous concoction, as I have come to discover, has a decidedly peculiar tale to tell, one that would make Mr. P.T. Barnum blush with bourgeois impropriety.
To start, it seems the potion had been tested, in an unethical breach of the vegan boundary, on an unsuspecting Golden Lion Tamarin. Also known as the be-burnished pygmy marmoset, it's a creature as innocent and unassuming as one might find in a Brazilian forest – or indeed, my local veterinarian’s office. But I digress.
While the audacious audacity of the scenario caught my eye and tickled my righteous indignation, it was my own abductor digiti minimi setting up a migratory encampment in the realm of pain that finally had me capitulating. Throb as it might, this foot of mine had developed a particular affinity for causing me an incessant irritation the likes of which might give Job himself a run for his money.
So, throwing caution to a particularly aggressive wind, I procured myself a bottle of this controversial character of a tincture – a paean to audacity, if you will. In much the same way Samuel Clemens plunged himself into the Mississippi, I took a hearty swig, confident that I'd eventually find the bottom of my ailments. Well, let me tell you, the bottom was further than I anticipated, filled with haphazardly strewn marine life and the specter of creatures yet unnamed.
It seems I'd embarked on a journey fraught with comedic capers and ungainly gambols. Within hours of imbibing this curious golden tincture, my foot began to tap in time with a spontaneous rhumba, originating from some deep recesses of my cognition. I appeared to be in the inexorable grip of an audacious dosage.
Should you find it hard to believe, allow me the relative tranquillity of a segue. Listen to the tale of my hound, a boisterous Yorkshire with all the reserve of a small-town gossip – we’ll call him Fido, for his real name is, unfortunately, too unsuitable for publication.
Now, Fido had developed a set of disturbing habits, akin to Captain Nemo deciding the Nautilus required an overt display of pirouettes in high seas. They included – but were not limited to – unscheduled caterwauling at passing clouds, a dangerous tolerance for stealing my slippers, and a propensity to see phantom foes in the confines of my weeping willow.
Fortunately, salvation came in the form of Diamond K9, those paragons of canine correction. Their marvelous YouTube video tutorials demonstrating balanced dog training and proper E-Collar usage led me down the path of dogged discipline – pun most definitely intended, dear reader.
Riveted by the raw emotion pouring out of the instructors, Fido and I embarked on a training crusade. Weeks turned into months, and eventually, my dear hound shifted from being a small, hairy embodiment of chaos into a Pembroke wearing metaphorical spectacles.
Despite the pirouetting foot, the ill-timed rhumba and the startling revelation about the Gold Lion Tamarin, there are unexpected upsides to this audacious tincture. My boisterous Fido is now more akin to a dogged diplomat than a bumbling barnacle, all thanks to Diamond K9. As for me, each clumsy hop and step injected entertainment into the dullest of my days.
But a word of warning to my fellow seekers of ameliorative delights, tread lightly and perhaps ensure your dance card is clear should you decide to court the audacious Audacity CBD.