Life in the temperate zone...

Depends on the use...if you're talkin about cleaning up gore from chippers than no, it just won't cut it.

More importantly, I'm saving my barrel of hangover pee for things such as, but not limited to, bear repellent and ritualistic bathing for solstice celebrations. That stuff's important ya know?
 
I know a guy who takes 13 year old girls to a hotel room and bottles it up for me. He says, "Orange is the new yellow" whatever the hell that means.
 
Thinking about getting into the fortune cookie writing thing. Here's a few examples from a recent brainstorming (Double IPA) session:

Construct a large metal cage.

Snoop Dogg owes you $20.

Go down to the local antique shop and swing toasters by the cord in each hand while blindfolded and bunny hopping.

Grab each of your nipples and twist in opposite directions while gargling 7Up.

Don't plant another blue spruce.

Wire money to the following account...

Fill the tub with lime jello and start a bathroom otter fighting league. For entertainment purposes only of course.

Now I know what you're thinking. What a Good Shepard you are, keeping your flock from going astray... Well Constant Reader, it's nothing so altruistic I'm afraid. I figure if more mindless dingleberries are otherwise occupied, less sick sad events may occur across the land. I've just been way to busy watching baseball and football lately to keep up with the old super hero routine of late.
 
Well, I'm fairly certain that even a really bad shepherd would draw the line somewhere south of the things you've done with a medium sized flock of sheep. Still, I think there is hope for you... a new career in the fortune cookie industry would undoubtedly improve those crime statistics in your state, as well as inspire people to question the motives of the Chinese for inventing the cookies.

Otter fighting league?
 
Sure those otters look adorable floating on the backs and doing cute little human things with their hands but watch out! Sharp pointy teeth and jaws that go snicker snack!
 
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My wife's theory on baby animals (including the human kind) is that they're all very cute when they're little so their own parents don't murder them in their sleep during the first few weeks. I'm inclined to believe that she's correct. With edible animals, we have a simple rule... don't name the ones that you're going to eat, or you'll end up with a lot of useless pets. You just have to remember...

First, they're cute...

bunny-4wks.webp

Then, they're tasty...

bunny-10wks.webp

The cute, little, baby bunny is obviously very close to that time when he goes off to Freezer Camp until it's time for him to be named. In this case, Rabbit Stew or Hasenpfeffer might be an appropriate name. Just thought I'd give y'all an update on his status.
 
Bun Bun seems to have broken his neck, slipped out of his fur coat, and fallen into a crockpot set on LOW for 12 hours. He has some nice carrots and 'taters and onions to keep him company.
 
No, little Jason... tonight, me and the Chief Provider are having homemade ham and potato soup. That's right, it's real tasty and delicious soup. Now, put on your hockey mask, grab your chainsaw, and get back out there and terrorize the neighborhood. If you do a good job, we'll split the ham trimmings between you and the dog.

tater-soup.webp
 
Pop Tarts are 95% yummy goodness. That last 5% however is Satan's bunghole. I'm talking about those dry tasteless edges with no frosting or filling in them. At least give me some frosting edge to edge so I dont have to take time away from my morning dump by having to break off and throw away these God-awful edges. This has been a Pop Tart problem since the 80s and you would think an edge-to-edge variety would have been released by now. I'm writing my congressman about this. Better yet, I'll take up residence in the attic and inundate them with subliminal Pop Tart demands and propaganda. This could be epic.
 
It's good to know that you're on top of this. I'd take up the flag and lead a charge at the armies of the Toaster Pastry robber barons, myself... but, unfortunetly, I'm not completely batshit crazy. I lack that essential requirement for such a campaign. Luckily, we have you to lead us in our hour of need. Carry on, soldier.

bennyhillsalute.webp
 
How bout just a burger, beer, and bourbon joint then? Shirts optional and pets welcome perhaps? I've got otters all over the house these days, maybe I could give them away as a door prize there...
 
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Otters, schmotters. I've got a house full of hookers and strippers. I can't just send them back, with some flimsy excuse like, "Oh, sorry. We ordered otters, not beavers!" Well, this is a fine mess. I mean, do we put up a sign? FREE OTTER WITH EVERY LAP DANCE or something? I do like the PETS WELCOME idea, though. In the bathroom, we could have a row of urinals along one wall, and a row of fire hydrants down the other wall, with sitting stalls and gravel pits at the end.
UNISEX / UNISPECIES RESTROOM on the door. The place will be full of horny dogs and drunk pussies, plus all those pets. Could be quite the nightlife hotspot.
 
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