Pigs

 


Any day now, any day now, I shall be released

I am not a human being; I'm an animal

I hereby officially renounce my human status.  I am no longer a human.  Hopefully, I will retain my humanly rights.  I'm lucky to not be a pig, chicken, cow, fish, lobster, cow, or turkey.  Obviously, most people don't care about the way these animals are treated.
Which is why I don't want to be a human.  Every single day I'm reminded how insane this "human" society is.  I'm a vegan.  Most people eat meat, which means they don't care about the animals they're eating.  HUMANS DON'T NEED TO EAT MEAT TO SURVIVE.  In fact, it's much healthier to eat vegan whole foods: veggies, fruits, nuts, seeds, and whole grains.  Most people procreate, which means they don't care about their sons and daughters.  This is a f**cked-up, violent world.  I love my kids too much to bring them into this world.  There is so much pain, misery, and suffering in this world.  To continue this cycle of misery is practically the definition of insanity.   
Animals are innocent.  They are following their natural instincts.  They don't understand things the way humans do.  Their societies aren't nearly as crazy as human society is.  They kill because they are hungry or to protect themselves or their young uns.  Obviously, humans are the biggest murderers in the history of the world.  Even the dinosaurs didn't kill at the levels that humans do ("food" animals, the holocaust, war, terrorism).          
I am so crazy, that I briefly considered crawling instead of walking.  I decided against it because it would probably be too painful and uncomfortable (knees on asphalt).
So people don't think they're animals.  That's crazy.  People have so much in common with animals: mouths, heads, teeth, blood, lips, lungs, brains, drinking water, eating food, sleeping, peeing, pooping, living, dying, skin, noses, limbs, etc.  People are animals.  They're just the worst animals to ever walk the Earth.  The most violent.  The most selfish.  The most destructive.  Good riddance.     

Wham, Bam, NO Thank You, Ma'am!

This is not my car, and it's not that bad.

I'm a good driver.  I take driving very seriously.  I know it's dangerous, and it kills thousands of people every year.  Cars kill animals too.  That's why I try to not speed.  The faster I'm going, the less time I'll have to avoid hitting an animal or another car.  I don't use the phone while driving.  I don't eat while driving.  I wouldn't load a CD into the car stereo while driving.
Regardless, I was involved in a car accident a week ago.  I wasn't speeding.  My car was doing about 30 MPH as I was getting ready to stop at a red light.  Suddenly, a car attempted to make a left turn right in front of my car.  I hit the brakes, but I couldn't stop my car from hitting hers.  What she did was completely irresponsible.  She must not have looked to see if any cars were coming before attempting that turn, or she would have seen mine.  Her excuse was that another driver told her she could make the turn.  That is no excuse.  Another driver tells you that you can make a turn, so that's your cue to put a blindfold on and do it?  The more I think about it, the more angry I become.  Her timing was unbelievable.  It was almost as though she was trying to cause an accident.  She turned right in front of me, and I didn't have time, or distance, to avoid hitting her vehicle.
I hadn't been in an accident since I was a teenager, so I didn't even know exactly what to do.  I knew I needed to get her insurance info, but I wanted the police to be involved.  Someone, in an apartment across the street, said that she saw the accident.  I asked her to call the police.  Amazingly, the other driver started yelling about how she wasn''t trying to flee the scene.
I said to her, "I don't know what you're yelling about." I also said, "This is 100% your fault," to her, and she agreed with me.
I flagged a police officer down.  He wrote up a report.  He had some issue with the other driver, to which she responded, "My lawyer said I was good to go."  After a little while, I was allowed to leave, but she had to stay.  She was in some kind of trouble with the officer.
I had a weird day this week.  I found out that, aside from back pain, a hernia, OCD, and depression, I'm otherwise pretty healthy.  In the same day, I found out my car is a total loss.  The damage doesn't look that bad.  A headlight was smashed.  The left front corner of the car was smashed in.  I can't get the hood up.  I have to squeeze into the car, because the door doesn't open all the way now.  But this woman did at least $3700 in damage to my car, which is more than it's worth.  I've been dealing with the other driver's insurance company, which hasn't been fun.  They just sent me a nasty letter, which pisses me off, because I'm an innocent victim here.  I don't need any of this crap.  They haven't acknowledged it's her fault yet.  Meanwhile, I called my insurance company, and the woman I spoke to immediately said it was obvious it was her fault, because she made a turn when it wasn't safe to do so.  So far, this experience has been another example of how life isn't fair.     

Bumpkin Likes to Cuddle

My cuddle buddy: Bumpkin

She really does.  Ever since I told Bumpkin I'd read, in an least 2 psychology books, that touching has great therapeutic benefits, she has insisted that I cuddle with her regularly.  That's fine with me.  It's good for me and it's probably good for her too.  Trust me, it's totally innocent and platonic.  Bumpkin's getting into enough rambunctiousness as it is; I can only wonder how she'll act when she's older, like when she's entered groundhog adolescence.
"Give me a massage," she ordered.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied.  As instructed, I began to rub her tiny feminine groundhog shoulders (upper).
"Oh, yeah," Bumpkin moaned, "that's good."
"I'm glad your enjoying it, Miss Bumpkin."
"How many groundhogs have you massaged before me?"
As much as I love and respect Bumpkin, that was a heck of a stupid question.  "None, Bumpkin.  You're my first."
"It seems to Bumpkin like you've been doing this your whole life.  You are a great masseuse of groundhogs.  No matter where I go, you will be my personal masseuse.  Or, if I find someone better than you, then you will be the personal masseuse of one of my sisters.  And, of course, should you lose one or both of your hands, I will replace you." 
"That's great news ma'am."
"You don't seem to be as excited as I thought you'd be.  Don't you realize how safe you'll be?  Every human who refuses to submit to my whole world rule will be slaughtered.  There will be tons of carnage.  The resulting bloodbath will make the Civil War look like a picnic."
"Wow.  You know about the Civil War?"
"Of course, I've seen quite a bit of the stuff Ken Burns made about it.  It's very informational.  What it's missing completely is the groundhog perspective on the Civil War.  Make a note: I'm going to make a Civil War documentary that explores the groundhog perspective on the war."
"Yes, ma'am."  I pulled the pad out of my pocket in which I wrote down all of her ideas she told me to write down.  I didn't bother to tell her that most groundhogs don't watch or own televisions, because she'd probably launch an effort to get TVs to groundhogs.  Moreover, I'd probably have to lug TVs all over the place, and I don't know how they'll fit in groundhog's holes.  That's why I didn't open that particular can of worms.