Squirrels gone wild

What in the name of all that is holy could have been going on in the maple tree outside our window last night?!?

I came out of a dead sleep in the wee hours - no idea what time, I was too freaked out to find my glasses - the the most god-awful screeching and yowling I have ever heard.

It was so insane that all I could do was lie there and shriek along.

Then B woke up and demanded to know what the hell was going on - and I stopped shrieking long enough to say that I had no f*cking idea.

As it continued - we determined that there was some kind of insane squirrel apocalypse taking place outside of our bedroom window.

The screams were the screams of the damned - little squirrel souls being ripped out their furry little bodies by some demonic force we could only begin to imagine.

And then - from below - came the sounds of the vanquished. The soul-less who had not emerged from the apocalypto intact - mewling sounds that at once sounded both submissive and yet defiant - and ready to fight for more.

B could take no more and fled to the potty.

I tried in vain to clap my hands and make the demonic combatants stop. (As you know, nothing deflects the forces of darkness like a good hand clap).

Eventually, the tormented wailing and keening ebbed and faded away. I believed I could still hear an occasional mewling sound from below - perhaps one who had been injured and lie dying on the ground.

I lay quietly, feeling that I should check to see if someone - something - needed help. But a) it was dark and spooky, b) I would have had to find my glasses, put on shoes, grab a flashlight...., and c) it's a goddamned squirrel who woke me up.

I mentally counted the known cats in the neighborhood who were set out at night by their owners - and figured that nature would attend.

I haven't been brave enough to step outside this morning - I don't know what to expect.

My mind paints pictures of a rodent version of a Hieronymus Bosch painting of Hell in my side yard - little squirrel parts everywhere.

I think I'll wait until B gets up. I don't want the crazed hand-clapping outside to wake him up.

Xtreme etiquette

Welcome to the first in an occasional series of etiquette advice to help us all live a more polite and less stressful life. And now, your host - Chlorine X DuPree - shares her sage advice:


Dear Chlorine:

What recourse does one have when a fellow passenger decides to wait until your 1.5 hour express commuter train is well in transit to - pardon my language - take his morning dump?

I and many other passengers were highly distressed and inconvenienced.

Sincerely,
Masie Finkbottom


Dear Masie:

Oh, you poor dear. Well, you certainly can't shame him by pointing out the foulness of his deed, can you? He's already done that himself.

What you can do is politely introduce the topic of unclean public transportation lavatory seats into discussion within earshot of the offending gentleman (and everyone else on the train.)

Be sure to point out that public lavatory seats have been proven to be one of the key causes of hepatitis infections, sexually transmitted disease, unwanted body hair, teen pregnancy, hysterical blindness and the Bush administration.

And then trip him as he exits the train, dear. And if you can enlist the aid of another unhygienic and disreputable passenger, have him give him a Dirty Sanchez while he's down.

Thank you for writing, dear.

xoxo
Chlorine

The devil made me do it....

Microwave my baby, that is...

No - apparently being undereducated, stupid and a victim of religious hysteria made you do it.

According to CNN - the Galveston, TX woman whose husband placed their two-month old baby in a microwave - severely burning her - wasn't a crazy, drunken, unmedicated, pig-bastard redneck assh*le after all...

No - apparently the devil - in retaliation for the 19 year-old husband's desire to become a PREACHER - made the husband do this.

"Satan saw my husband as a threat," she told reporters.

Okay - now you gonna get told.

The only "threat" is ignorant religious zombie trash like you and your obviously pathologically insane baby-daddy. The sooner you crazy, inbred and unbalanced yahoos quit replacing education, critical thinking and ethical responsibility (and good anti-psychotic medication, apparently) with unquestioning fealty to organized religion as your panacea, absolving you of all personal responsibility for your actions - the better off we all - especially your already unfortunate children - will be!

According to the article - Ms. Crazy is now trying to get the little girl back and, to their unending credit, the authorities are attempting to sever all parental rights.

Hey, Crazy - why don't you and the hubby challenge Satan for a come-back round? With any luck, even he will have the goodness of heart use his pitchfork to sterilize you two insane f*cks.

Made me laugh

In response to a Washington Post op-ed piece by the apparently barking mad - or unsuccessfully satirical - commentator David Broder, that began with this unbelievably bizarre introduction:

"The two wounded warriors stood side by side in the sunshine of the White House Rose Garden. Tony Blair and George Bush, partners in a transatlantic alliance that has come a cropper in Iraq, tried to shield each other from the slings and arrows of two nations' reporters."

a reader writing under the ID of Filmex replied with the following:

"Broder: History will record that both of them saw the threat to the West posed by terrorism and responded courageously."

Filmex: And if FDR has responded to the attack on Pearl Harbor by invading Mexico, one supposes Broder would have come up with the same contortionist logic.

I can honestly say I haven't heard it so aptly put in recent days - I can almost see these clowns doing just that.

Anyway - made me laugh.

Made me laugh today....

I have always loved editorial cartoons. Like this great one by Kevin Siers of the Charlotte , North Carolina Observer.

Daryl Cagle has a brilliant website called Daryl Cagle's Professional Cartoonist's index - he groups editorial cartoons by themes - and even offers commentary by the artists themeselves. It's well worth a visit - especially when there is something juicy going on in the news.

Americans are f*cking stupid

At least the nimrods who voted for anyone besides Melinda Doolittle on American Idol. The dumbasses have spoken and another talentless twit who ullulates like every other bland female pop singer of the last decade has ascended.

At least Blake has his beat-boxing to keep him alive - that and the fact that every gay guy in America under 30 is voting for him in the hopes that he'll win and come out on the final show.

The problem with reality TV in America is that excellence is punished and mediocrity rewarded - God forbid we should have anything left to aspire to - or people that we can actually look up to for their extraordinary gifts.

For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, meet Melinda Doolittle - Gladys and Aretha, make room for one more:







Day One - I will be there to buy her CD on the day it hits the shelves.

You stupid losers.

Jerry better hope he was right....

Mwah-ha-ha-hahhhhhh!!!

Carbon-neutral and joy-positive!

As of tomorrow, I am officially a home-based employee. This means no more twice-a-week , 75-mile round trip commutes to Westchester.

And for the times I meet with my teammates in Manhattan, I'll be taking public transportation (the Amtrak train to Manhattan is lovely - it has bathrooms that don't skeeve you out if you have to use them. And they have snacks! Train snacks!).

This will significantly impact my vehicle longevity and my bank account - no more $50 a week in gas for two days of travel. It will also reduce my stress level, increase my ability to get the the gym, give me three hours back two days a week in which I can be productive vs. sitting in traffic - and - perhaps best of all - I may never have to shave or wear underwear again.

Of course, I am kidding about that. I will shave occasionally. :)

And to further cut back on our carbon footprint, I think this is the year we're going to buckle down and get a Neuton mower. I've loved the idea of owning one of these little rascals ever since we dumped the 5-acre Vermont farm for our modest suburban corner lot. I hate the mess and stink and weight of our gas-powered mower.

I'ma need me one-a dese. (Hmm - my birthday IS coming....) in like 4 months....

Can you picture this - when my carbon-nuetral joy is complete? Tottering around the yard - Neuton quietly buzzing away in one hand, my third martini in the other - gleefully stress-free, wearing freshly-laundered clothes because I will have been able to keep up with the laundry during long boring conference calls - then dancing and twirling in our gorgeous and heavily-mulched garden, because when I pay over $300 for a sh*t-load of dirt, tree bark and little twiggy bits - I'm going to f'ing enjoy it.

The outlook fo this year is positive - we've already kicked off the FABULOUS spring/summer cocktail and cookout season; Farmer's Market starts Memorial Day weekend - so I can stop schlepping for produce; B isn't going to be working every weekend like he did last summer (or he'll be single again >:) and it's all just SO amazing.

It feels good to feel so positive today.

So good, in fact - that the first person to burst my bubble today is going straight to hell with a martini pick stuck in their forehead.

XOXO

An interlude...

Until I have the chance to catch up with my blog, please enjoy this great entry I stumbled across on Pandagon.

Also - let me give props to another favorite blog of mine, Fried Wire - ya'll might enjoy it (especially if you are of a like mind and believe that our country is currently in the hands of a flaming lizard surrounded by ringwraiths as advisors)