To be honest, even though I own a Tengu I’m still not sure what the hell it is: my little man looks like an iPhone fell in bed with a domino, spawning a creature with a huge, wobbly, neon mouth.
What I do know is this: I plug him in to the USB port on my computer, and he talks to me. And sings little songs. And changes faces when you blow on him. And…that’s what she said. (Apparently, hanging out with Tengus brings out your inner Michael Scott.)
But since my Tengu came to live on my desk, his odd brand of lip-synching (you should see him do the new Phoenix album!) has made my freelance, work-at-home life a lot less lonely.