Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Six More Weeks Of Seasonal Affective Disorder

Followed by sixty more years of seasonal affective disorder. Look at that smug, round little bastard. He decides the seasons for a month and a half of every year of our human lives. Look at those eyes. Do you see benevolence? Do you see goodwill toward men? No, I see a morbidly obese squirrel that literally weakens the foundation of humanity by burrowing tunnels under our feet. "Oh, but they have just as much right to be here as we do!" Correct, which is to say NONE AT ALL. "Oh but it might be Spring!" Oh, but it might be CERTAIN DEATH. We have given groundhogs every opportunity to destroy us, and so far they've just been building their underground army. Waiting. Fattening. You don't know what you don't know about groundhogs. I'm from Pennsylvania. I've seen them. They will run in front of your car just like other things. Except fatter. And more entitled. Do you think Groundhogs get together and dedicate 1/365th of their year to humans? You're damn right they don't. Join the resistance. Pave your lawn.

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