I Got Time to Blog

Groundhog.

It was so smart of me to mention the standup comedy contest.  I just failed to advance to the finals.  But it was only my second time doing it, and it went much better than the first time.  It was a good crowd, though.  I was lucky to perform in front of a house that was nearly full.
I've previously mentioned here that I've seen nasty birds pecking at, and, I assumed, bullying groundhogs.  But I recently saw something quite strange.  A bird went so far as to jump onto the back of a groundhog, who seemed to do nothing to get the rider off of her.  The bird pecked at the groundhog, and I couldn't help wondering if the purpose of the pecking is to remove bugs from the groundhog's fur.  After all, as cute as they look, I don't know how clean they are.  They live outside: mostly underground, so I suppose they have to deal with their share of parasitic bugs.
I'm so happy to have met a very nice vegan woman.  We had a date, and it went very well.  It's more important that someone I'm dating be vegan or vegetarian than anything else.  It doesn't hurt that she's very pretty with a great smile.  I'm so glad she let me cuddle with her.  For those that don't know, touching, even non-sexual, is so incredibly beneficial to those being touched.  Massage, for instance, can do a world of good to someone.  It can help heal physical ailments.
Once again, I felt the need to intervene on behalf of my beloved groundhogs.  I heard kids talking around the area where the groundhog home is.  I looked out the window, and a kid was trying to fill the hole they live in with debris.
"Stop doing that," I said out the window.
The 2 kids looked up at me.  "Why?"  one of them asked defiantly.
"Cause there are animals living in there," I replied.
"Do they bite?" the kid asked.
I did not answer that.  I should have.  They certainly bite each other; that's for sure.
This kid did something strange.  He proudly pulled a $10 bill from his pocket and showed it to me.  "I'll give you $10 if I can fill this hole," he said with all kinds of braggadocio, as though $10, in his world, equaled a million dollars.
I declined his offer, and eventually, they left.  I went out there to clear whatever he had put in the hole.  The branch was the easy part, but he also had thrown a rock down there that I wasn't able to reach: even with my baseball bat.  But I was overjoyed to see that, later, the groundhogs had gone out anyway.  That rock hadn't stopped them, and that was the important thing.