I often pretend when I eat a granny smith apple it’s really a pickle gopher’s head.

Cows far from the champions of the forest are really to me the closest I will ever get to a real unicorn.

Your comments on my blog may fall on deaf ears but I will still bask in their glory.

I think yesterday I got a wood chuck and a ground hog mixed up but maybe it’s about time we stopped the thousand year war between these rodents. They may have the mighty powers to sometimes predict seasons or throw large amounts of wood around (Wilt Chamberlain reference). They may also be on you dinner table served with a white wine reduction and some hen of the wood mushrooms. They may be your next cab driver or token giver on the mechanical underground sled or maybe it’s your son’s new girlfriend…I might add that in many circles this maybe be frowned upon but I say live and let live.  Once the Supreme Court rules on marriage I’m sure marijuana and sex with rodents will not be far behind. I am not making drastic predictions about moral decay merely a kernel of caramel that is lodged in the social morays of our American values. As long as they are a happy couple and your son can support the litter and he understands that both boy and girl rodents will serve the world in its war against the anatomically correct Amazon robots who are programed for war not love, they are the future! Whiskey cannot save you from laser beams or bullets or ravens or giant flying clones of senile Ronald Reagan, but it has medicinal properties that in my unlicensed opinion is a good way to take your mind off the giant cybernetic spider playing paddy cake with your rib cage…you realize there really is no way to go back to a normal life or any life for that matter when you get eviscerated, sure the spider thinks it’s giving you a friendly zerbert along your stretch marks but what does a demon spider of Hell Planet 4 know about fun, does it know how to make popcorn? Would it put fresh butter on, maybe a hint of salt…no it wouldn’t…no it wouldn’t even enter its mind…