Contempt

I find it very difficult to live in this society, because I have contempt for
-mentally-competent adults that selfishly support animal cruelty by buying meat, leather, fur, etc.
-mentally-competent adults that have procreated
-mentally-competent adults that have brought animals into this world
-mentally-competent adults that spend a lot of time with their faces in their smartphones.
So, once again, obviously, I am not targeting children or the mentally disabled.  I get along with the sorts of people I have just mentioned, mostly because I have to.  I get along quite well with a coworker who eats meat and has kids.  I like her.  Interestingly, we were talking one day, and she admitted, unsolicited, that life is shitty.  Do you regret having kids?  That's the question I wanted to ask but didn't.  I need to do whatever I need to do to get through the day at work.  If I hated, and scowled at, all my coworkers that eat meat, have procreated, and have their faces in their phones every chance they get, I'd be hated.  I have no friends, so I need to try to get along with my coworkers as well as I can.  But whenever I see them eating meat, or hear them talking about their favorite meat dishes, I can feel the contempt bubbling up inside me.  Likewise when I see them with (or hear them talking about) their kids.  Seeing them with their faces in their phones reminds me of the contempt too.
So, again, leaving it all for the wilderness seems like a good idea.  I wouldn't have to be around people I have contempt for.  But the same issues come to mind: bugs bugging me, lack of heat, showers, and toilet paper.  It seems like I can't win.     

Thoughtless Cruelty

I think about animals lots of times every day.  As I've mentioned before, I'm constantly being reminded of animal cruelty and how many people are contributing to it with the choices they make.  It's a big problem for the animals (and those of us that care about them) that people are being thoughtlessly cruel to them all the time.
I wouldn't buy leather: period.  I see people wearing all sorts of leather garments.  I imagine them in the shoe stores.  I suppose leather is a thing to them: a material.  In the shoe store, they probably aren't thinking of it as the dead skin of a tortured, enslaved animal who had been innocent and peaceful.  I suppose they aren't thinking that, if they purchase those leather shoes, they will be supporting violence against cows.
It's the same with meat.  It's a thing: a food.  I suppose those that purchase it aren't thinking it's the dead, tortured flesh of an innocent animal that suffered for the sake of the consumer's palate.  I recently called animal cruelty, especially that which is highly-organized and institutionalized, "the worst conspiracy" in a post here.  It really is.  It's billions of people (currently-I shudder to think how many people over the course of human history have contributed to animal cruelty) getting together and essentially saying, "Sure, what we're doing to animals is horrible, and unnecessary, but, if you do it, and act like you're not doing anything wrong, then I will too."
I'm sickened by animal cruelty.  It contributes to my depression, which is nothing compared to the suffering that thoughtlessly cruel people are supporting whenever they buy meat, leather, fur, etc.  

She Broke My Heart

Where are you, mommy?

I had never heard such a sound before.  I was thinking that someone might be whistling.  It was a high-pitched sound.  I looked out my bedroom window.  I saw one of Veronica's young groundhogs sitting near her home: a hole in the ground (right next to the building I live in).  I realized she was making the sound.  She was yelping.  I believe she was calling out for her mama: Veronica.  I had seen her earlier that day.  She was in the same place, right next to the hole, and she was looking around.  She even stood up on her hind legs so she could see more.  But she probably did not see her mama, which is why she called out to her.  I can't be totally sure.  She might have been calling out to one of her sisters or brothers.  But my gut instinct told me she was summoning her mama.
Veronica is a wonderful mother.  She gave birth to 5 baby groundhogs this spring.  I've seen mother groundhogs attack their own children: not Veronica.  As far as what I've seen, she's only been good to her little rascals.  But I think that trouble arrived in the form of another adult groundhog.  I thought it was strange that Veronica didn't chase this invader away.  Mother groundhogs are usually very protective of their young.  I assumed she was intimidated by this groundhog.  Then I realized I hadn't seen Veronica in a while.  I believe this adult groundhog chased her away: away from her babies, which is why one of her daughters would cry out for her to come back.
Before I began to write this post, I could see 3 young uns eating grass and weeds.  I really believe that the adult groundhog around here is not mama Veronica.  Adults usually have missing fur: possibly where they've been attacked, and bitten, by other groundhogs.  I've taken pictures of Veronica, and I believe this adult is not her.  How is Veronica?  I worry about her.  What is the dynamic between this adult and the young uns?  I haven't seen this adult terrorize any of them, but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened, and that it won't continue.  Is this adult living with the young uns?  I don't know.  It's anarchy out there.     

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.  

Worse Than I Thought

I think these youngsters have been chased away from here.

I realized today, with sadness, that Betsy might have chased all of her children away except for Runty.  Lately, I've only seen her fat ass and Runty.  It's so sad the way groundhogs come and go around here.  Well, it's not sad when they arrive, but it certainly is when they go.  I haven't seen 4 of her children in quite a while. 
I gave Runty that name because he has the thinnest fur of any groundhog I've ever seen.  I have previously referred to Runty as a female, but I have a feeling he's a male.  I assumed he was female, because that's the way I do things.  If I don't know the sex of an animal, I assume that he or she is a female, because lots of people seem to be more protective of their sisters, mothers, wives, girlfriends, and daughters.  I saw a documentary about one of the founders of PETA: Ingrid Newkirk.  She said that animals are never its; they're hes or shes.  I agree wholeheartedly. 
There's plenty of grass for lots of groundhogs, but I guess Betsy doesn't feel that way.  I suppose her children aren't cute enough for her anymore.  I love her, but I don't love her mothering technique.
I sure hope Runty's fur grows in well eventually.  I don't want him to be too cold when winter comes.  Who could he snuggle with?  His mother Betsy?  Perhaps not.  She might be the worst groundhog mother I've ever seen. 
I did read what this guy wrote.  He wrote that groundhogs kill em' all and let god sort them out.  I've seen plenty of groundhog on groundhog violence, and I think I've seen lots of battle scars on little groundhogs.  It's so sad.  They're so cute, but they're lives are filled with fear and violence.  Again, I draw the line when it comes to human on groundhog violence.  I'm willing to get into a fistfight to protect a groundhog or any animal.  They're my brothers and sisters.  They belong on this planet at least as much as we do.
Okay now, black people have demanded their rights and gotten them.  Same thing with women: and now gay people.  It's the animal's turn: all of them.

Bumpkin!

Peek-a-boo!  I see you!

I can't believe it!  The inevitable finally happened.  Bumpkin hit me in the ass with a fireball!  She ruined a perfectly good pair of jeans in the process.  At least it wasn't one of her lethals, she just wanted to make a point I guess.  To remind me that she merely tolerates me, and she could take me out anytime, and she can.
By the way, Bumpkin has given up completely on her clone, who looks just like her but has none of the special abilities and superpowers that Bumpkin has.  Bumpkin has kicked her out of my apartment; she must hibernate in the family hole: like a normal groundhog.  This is a good thing; it was crowded enough in here with me and 3 groundhogs.  I'm worried that she'll keep cloning herself until she gets the result she wants though.
Back to the butt burning though.  I must admit that I can be a surly sort.  It's part of the reason why I choose to live alone (I didn't ask Bumpkin and her sisters, Lucinda and Sloopy, to spend the winter hibernating in my apartment; Bumpkin made that decision for me.).  I need to have a place where I can get away and be alone: my home.  I came home from work one day, and I wasn't a happy camper; it was just one of those days (Don't take it personal.).  I walked down the hallway to the bathroom.  I turned my head, glanced into the bedroom, and saw it: groundhog poop.  One of my roomies had missed the kitty litter box by a few inches.  When I first moved in to this apartment, I was glad to have wall-to-wall carpeting.  I've since reconsidered.  Whoever made the choice to install light-colored carpeting into these apartments is a real pain in my ass (No pun intended.).  I wipe my feet so thoroughly before I enter my unit; it makes me feel like more of a nutcase than I usually do.  It doesn't matter; when you have light-colored carpeting, stains will come out of the woodwork.  If I ever buy carpeting, it will either be dark brown or black.  Black is an especially good choice because it is a combination of all the colors.  Therefore, theoretically, whatever you drop onto it will be absorbed by the blackness of it.
So I see groundhog poop on the carpet, and I see red.  I knew Bumpkin didn't do it, because she taught herself to use the toilet shortly after moving in to my unit.  Sometimes she forgets to clean her fur off the toilet seat, but I guess that's just the way the cookie crumbles.  Even though I know Bumpkin can be very protective of her sisters, I couldn't help it.
"Who pooped on the carpet?!" I yelled.  Then I felt it: the fireball hitting my backside.  Whoo!  It burned.  I ran into the bathroom, turned on the cold water, and splashed it all over my butt.  I took off the pants; they were toast.  There was just a little hole burned into my skivvies: no need to trash them.  That was enough of a warning for me.  I dropped the issue entirely.  And Bumpkin, to her credit, levitated the errant poop, and tossed it out of a window.  She even cleaned the stain.   Though I never found out who missed the kitty litter box; I suppose it doesn't matter.
         

Bumpkin Did It

She did it again; she destroyed stuff.

Once I stepped into my apartment, I knew something was wrong.  It was way too cold.  I immediately went to my, or, perhaps I should say, the bedroom of my 3 groundhogian guests: Sloopy, Lucinda, and, of course, Bumpkin, who has superpowers that were bestowed upon her by the dark netherworld.  I looked inside the bedroom and soon noticed the source of my home's extreme frigidity: the window had been busted.  It looked like something went right through the window and the screen.  Not surprisingly, the screen was bent outward, leaving me to believe that the source of the damage had come from within and most likely; it was Bumpkin.  Also not surprisingly, the sisters were watching Groundhog Day (again!).
"And just what the heck happened to that window?"
"You better not be talking to me like that," said Bumpkin.  "I'd hate to see you end up like that freaking window!"
"No, Mistress Bumpkin, I was talking to Sloopy and Lucinda.  If you're offended again, then please allow me to apologize to you again."
"You sure got a smart mouth, mister.  I'd hate to launch a fireball at it from my left front paw."
"Is that what happened to the window?  Was it one of your fireballs?"
"Of course."
"Why, pray tell, did you destroy the window and the screen with a fireball?"
"There was a bird outside who was making so much noise.  I warned him telepathically to quit it or go away, but he, for whatever reason, did not heed my warning.  The next logical step, everyone can agree, is to immediately fling a fireball of destruction from your left paw at the offender."
"Did you get him?"
"But of course.  He's really just a piece of toast at this point."
"OK, Madame Bumpkin, but, in the future, could you please open the window and the screen if you must launch a fireball?  And I'd appreciate it very much if you could try to limit your fireball deployment as much as possible.  It could bring unwanted attention to this apartment."
"Let them come!  I am ready.  Maybe that's how the last great war, that of the humans vs. the groundhogs, will come to pass.  They'll come after us, and we'll, well, I don't know about "we'll."  I won't get much help physically at all.  The average groundhog wouldn't do very well in combat against the average human.  It's looking like I'll have to do all the fighting for my side.  Sloopy and Lucinda will provide moral support.  They will keep my spirits up.  They'll remind me that I'm not just doing this for myself, I'm also doing it for all the world's groundhogs.  We will rule this planet!" 
"That's great Miss Bumpkin, but we need to do something about this window.  It's freezing in here!"
"No it isn't.  It's comfy."
"For you and your sisters maybe.  You're all covered in fur!  What about me?  I'm bald!  Please fix it Ms. Bumpkin." 
"OK, just a sec."  The damaged screen and window were immediately jettisoned from the building.  They were completely incinerated by one of Bumpkin''s fireballs before they could hit the ground.  Then a window and screen from the apartment directly across the way from ours detached from that unit and flew over to replace ours.
"Thanks, Bumpkin.  But that wasn't very neighborly."
"I told you.  I don't care about things like being neighborly.  I welcome any and all humans to challenge me in a duel to the death.  Groundhogs have been under the thumb of humans for far too long.  Here is as good a place as any for the revolution to begin.  Viva Las Marmotas!"