Musings of a Lemming

[woolsack]

does the story contain incest and beastiality? wall of texts scare me :s

[Ernest Lemmingway]

Holiday Horrors

 

For me, Halloween is the least real blowout until the New Year. Because the remaining holidays, at least in the States, are all...ugh, "family focused." I've introduced my dysfunctional aunt and uncle and the cousin that's dating a...bunny...in an earlier entry. My immediate family, however, is no less of a strain on my sanity. Starting with my father. The opinionated, bigoted military brat (yes, lemmings serve in the military! We aided the Norwegians against the Nazis during WW II) who hates being bossed around and revels in personal liberties, but who actually voted for Trump in '16! Even though lemmings are not legally allowed to vote. If the Democrats do turn up anything in their Inquisition against the POTUS, it could well be accepting votes from small furry mammals.

 

Now, my father is not the most well-adjusted being. His parents were physically and verbally abusive, and he never did learn to control his temper so he passed on the latter whenever he got upset and started yelling. The walls of a traditional dirt burrow can really echo! Which is why my place is concrete; it absorbs sound. At 66-lemming-years old, he's begun to slip into the worst stereotypes of seniors, as well. Like being obsessed with politics, feeling a need to spout his opinions on everything at the drop of a hat, and no longer even trying to keep his mind open. Don't get him started on things like political correctness, the wave of sexual harassment lawsuits against high-ranking men, or pretty much anything other than motorcycles, guns, and electronics. He's been a biker since he was 12 and he's a genius electrical engineer; unfortunately those are the only three subjects on which he remains conversant.

 

Unlike his father, who drank so heavily he killed himself from liver disease, he prefers weed as his relaxant. Which isn't bad at all given that our eastern neighbor is a state that legalized marijuana so he has easy access. Even if he's "medicated," though, he can still be triggered at the drop of a hat. Which is getting easier every year.

 

My mother, bless her heart, is the one family member I can stand. She works for Southwest Airlines; that they employ lemmings as flight attendants is one way they can keep operating costs so low compared to others. She has the patience of a saint to put up with my father. She's also kept herself in excellent shape--physically and mentally, the latter is especially noteworthy since she had me for a child--and plans on working for several more years still. Which is kind of necessary since my father has no retirement or 401K; he never bothered with either.

 

My sister got the ambition in the family. She put herself through cosmetology school, only to discover she hated it and switched to real estate last year. All the while working to raise a recently-turned-three-lemming-years-old child and pregnant with her second child as well. My brother-in-law, who's so tall he looks more like a weasel than a lemming, works for a smoker and grill company and gets all sorts of goodies the company is offloading to make way for new stuff. Yeah, even companies like Traeger employ critters to get actual work done while the humans deal with those leeches called "managers." Better to put them into positions of relative ineffectiveness than let them roam wild.

 

My nephew...I'm not sure how human children are, but lemming children really begin to get willful around his age. And my parents just spoil their only grandchild rotten. That's the "grand" part, I guess. They had their time when pop culture revolved around them. Now they have "grandpop culture." And who gets to deal with the kid when they're tired, cranky, or just ornery? The parents and the uncle.

 

Every Turkey Day and every Christmas, we meet at our parents' house. Along with my (American) aunt and uncle, sometimes my cousin as well. Everybody talks but me. Since I'm tired of being asked why I haven't married and had kids yet. Or why I'm trying to switch from a profession that still pays well to start over in one that pays less. You'd think Baby Boomers would understand why someone would quit a job they hate to go back to school and learn a trade that they like, even if it means a pay cut. They did it. Why can't I?!

 

Growing up I liked turkey. But as recently as five years ago I began to notice an unpleasant gaminess to it that's killed my appetite for it. So mom makes me a ham. Which typically doesn't last long. Cecil is appalled that I like chicken so much, but I like pork as well. And it tastes better on grilled cheese sandwiches than poultry. And rolled into (American) omelets. With the sharpest cheddar (real cheddar from Cheddar, not that artificially orange crap) I can get from my cheese-monger. Since ham is something I don't eat often, I tend to devour whatever I can get. Bacon is slightly more common, though I do drain most of the grease to get it crispy. The blue lemming has a thing for white meat. Which my vet tells me is fine but I get too little red meat in my diet. Which is the opposite of most 'Muricans.

 

Since I was a child I rarely ate much at family gatherings, since I tend to lose my appetite around large crowds. The exceptions being when I was in school and at restaurants. These days I don't eat much because of my chronic stomach issues. I also still have a narrow palate (thank you, Asperger's) and can't really stand the taste of greens. Blues, yes. Like that cake my sister made for her son on his recent birthday. A deep blue rainbow chip cake. My fur is still a shade darker six days later.

 

It gets worse on Xmas morning when we all open our presents. I'm rather hard to shop for. Since my interests tend to lean towards things I would not feel comfortable asking my family members to get me.  And I've lost a lot of interest in things that would be acceptable.

 

Thank the gods the holidays only come around once a year. Because while I love them, I just can't stand my family.

[Ernest Lemmingway]

Turkey Day Disasters

 

Another year, another Lemmingway Family get-together has come and gone...south, that is. Family started showing up around two in the afternoon. Along with the usual "delicacies" like soggy and greasy candied yams, green bean casserole that should be in a toxic waste dump, stuffing so riddled with salmonella the CDC hauled it off, and a turkey that was cooked until it was as dry and tough as shoe leather. And that was just on the TV!

 

By two-thirty my uncle is already hitting the sauce. It's cranberry based, but it's not the type you put on your bird. My aunt, too oblivious to realize, drones on and on about everything wrong with the new Democrat-heavy House and the inquisition they'll launch on Trump (not that I disagree about the latter). Grandpa just turns off his hearing aid and watches something about World War II on the Discovery Science channel; I keep the closed captioning on. Sis is putting on a brave face despite being three months pregnant and dealing with a three-year-old who's pitching a fit, while bro-in-law is joining my uncle. Mom is working like mad around getting two turkeys cooked, along with a ham and those greasy candied yams. Meanwhile dad is trying to deal with his grandson but we can all tell he's about to blow like Mt. Vesuvius.

 

By three my uncle is in the "happy" stage of his drunkenness, aunt is finally aware of what he's been doing, nephew has soiled himself, sis is having a breakdown, bro-in-law can barely stand up straight, mom has removed a burnt bird from the oven, and dad is screaming like a banshee. Meanwhile grandpa and I just sit in a pair of recliners, quietly passing gas.

 

By four things have calmed back down somewhat. Uncle is now drinking black coffee, nephew is changed, and the family is ready to say grace. Grandpa and I just sit quietly in our recliners, passing more gas.

 

By five the family has all overeaten, mom is telling everyone to make room for pie, and that second turkey is finally done cooking. Grandpa and I have eaten lightly compared to the rest and we continue sitting in our recliners, passing still more gas.

 

By five-thirty everyone is feeling the effects of eating way too much, save grandpa and I. Sis insists we light a candle for those who couldn't--or wouldn't--join us that Thanksgiving. No one pays attention to what grandpa and I have been doing for three hours. And we get a fireball that fills the vaulted ceiling for a split second. The Lemmingway Fireworks.

 

As the family shuffles out the door, leaving me to clean up a mess, I ask myself how I could possibly be related to that lot. Then I remember grandpa.

 

I hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving. For my family, it was one our best. And to think we get to do it all over again next month for Xmas!

[Glaurung26]

These are fantastic. Please don't stop.

[Ernest Lemmingway]

The "Joys" of Growing Older

 

I turn 37-lemming-years-old on Dec. 1. It's not quite "over the hill" but it's pretty damn close. Sexually, at least, I've been past my prime for half my life now whereas women the same age are still in theirs. I hear the same thing is true of humans. My knee's going out so that I may have to use a cane soon, my mind is narrowing to the point that it's basically a straight line too thin even for air, and I find myself reminiscing about how things were "back in my day." Even compared to my parents, the changes I've seen are so massive I can't relate to the ideals and mores of young people today. I don't want to be in constant contact with the wider world through my smartphone (nor do I want a smartwatch); either one can be used to track me physically. At least with a phone I can turn the damn thing off! Not that that may make a difference if the locator beacon is a passive RFID tag or chip.

 

When I was a kid, there were no such things as "play dates," "safe zones," and helicopter parents were a rarity. We played whenever we weren't in school in overgrown fields with whomever was around. If someone made fun of you or insulted you, you had no place to run and hide. Our parents were too busy working to make ends meet to monitor us twenty-four-seven and the tech didn't exist to monitor us. We got exposed to the harsh realities of the real world at a young age and we knew what we were getting into. Okay, no one told them that a blue lemming would be one of their peers but that doesn't change a thing. The only good thing I can say is that today a lot more kids are getting some sort of diversity education in school. Not that many young people look askance at a furry woodland critter in a human-rig; people my own age are another matter.

 

When I was a teen I read the Cathy comic strip and remember how Irving had a whole regimen of treatments for various aches and pains just from getting ready for sports. From ice packs to anti-inflammatory cream to joint braces and thinking, "What a wuss!" Now that I am middle aged I still think he was a weakling, but not by that much. My medicine cabinet used to hold just a tube of toothpaste, some mouthwash, a safety razor, and some shaving cream. Now it's filled with everything from aspirin to zinc sulfate. I should just buy my own private drugstore at this rate.

 

Worst of all, society is so schizophrenic about what's good and what's bad now that I can never tell if the truly good things in life will be available or classified as the equivalent of a Schedule One drug! It's hard to tell if the sheeple are more like parrots or Chicken Littles. Gluten, all forms of cholesterol, refined sugars, carbs, it's so much easier to blame anything and everything than accept that there's no simple answer. Damn it, I want that chocolate chip cookie to be made with real shortening, real sugar, real butter, and real bad for me! What right do sheeple have to tell a lemming that he can't have a cookie unless it's made with artificial sweeteners, gluten-free mix, and margarine?

 

Um...what was I talking about? Oh, jeez! SENIOR MOMENT!!

 

Melissa insists that, "Age is a state of mind." If so, how old is "nuttier than squirrel turd?"

[Psalam]

Happy Birthday Lemming !!!!! ?

?   Happy Birthday to you,

       You've escaped from the zoo.

       You look like a lem........ming

       And you write like one too!

[worik]

10 hours ago, Ernest Lemmingway said:

I turn 37-lemming-years-old on Dec. 1.

 

1 hour ago, Psalam said:

Happy Birthday Lemming !!!!! ?

?  ...

?

[Slorm]

10 hours ago, Ernest Lemmingway said:

I turn 37-lemming-years-old on Dec. 1.

 

Happy Birthday

 

May your fur never grow thin

[Ernest Lemmingway]

Thank you for the well wishing, folks. But this milestone is more like a kidney stone: I'm just gritting my teeth and waiting for it to pass.

[Psalam]

Lemming, I've had birthdays AND I've had kidney stones. No birthday I have ever had is as bad as a kidney stone (that's because, so far at least, I haven't passed a stone on my birthday). Relax and try to enjoy it. Reflect on the things you've learned, the people you've met and the relationships you've developed. Try to flow into the universal consciousness and achieve enlightenment.

What's that? A little too thick? 

Okay, in that case, just play some modded Skyrim and enjoy fantasy swords, sorcery and sex (this is LL after all)!

 

[Ernest Lemmingway]

41 minutes ago, Psalam said:

Spoiler

 

Lemming, I've had birthdays AND I've had kidney stones. No birthday I have ever had is as bad as a kidney stone (that's because, so far at least, I haven't passed a stone on my birthday). Relax and try to enjoy it. Reflect on the things you've learned, the people you've met and the relationships you've developed. Try to flow into the universal consciousness and achieve enlightenment.

What's that? A little too thick? 

Okay, in that case, just play some modded Skyrim and enjoy fantasy swords, sorcery and sex (this is LL after all)!

 

 

Point taken. But I still don't like the idea of getting a year older or people making a fuss about it. The latter especially. A cake (or cookie, or pie, or danish), an excuse to spend some money on myself, that's all I want. Instead I'm being dragged to a party thrown by my friends and honored as "the old fart" of the group. Ah well, it's an excellent excuse to razz them on their birthdays. Especially Cecil and Dave, who are still 29. They turn the big three-oh in five and six months, respectively.

[Psalam]

Spoiler

2 hours ago, Ernest Lemmingway said:

Point taken. But I still don't like the idea of getting a year older or people making a fuss about it. The latter especially. A cake (or cookie, or pie, or danish), an excuse to spend some money on myself, that's all I want. Instead I'm being dragged to a party thrown by my friends and honored as "the old fart" of the group. Ah well, it's an excellent excuse to razz them on their birthdays. Especially Cecil and Dave, who are still 29. They turn the big three-oh in five and six months, respectively.

 

 

I hate to get you MORE serious BUT aren't you expecting to be out of there and in school by that time?

[Ernest Lemmingway]

1 hour ago, Psalam said:

I hate to get you MORE serious BUT aren't you expecting to be out of there and in school by that time?

Actually I'll likely still be working for my company on a contractual basis until I graduate. They already laid me off and then hired me back on said contractual basis for five times what I was making (don't ask, it was an "executive decision to cut costs" I'm told). In fact they've been doing so for over a year now.  They could teach those young bucks how to diagnose their legacy system for a fraction of what they've been paying me, but that would apparently cut into the department manager's personal budget and cost him part of his yearly bonus. Whereas my pay is covered by the company's financial department. I quit trying to make sense of it. Whatever warped logic is at work is beyond me.

 

Otherwise I'm not going anywhere. And if my friends give me guff about going back to school, I can just point out that my schooling is covered completely by the grants and scholarships I qualify for, while whenever they have to take any sort of training they have to pay for it out of their own pockets.

[Psalam]

Spoiler

12 hours ago, Ernest Lemmingway said:

Actually I'll likely still be working for my company on a contractual basis until I graduate. They already laid me off and then hired me back on said contractual basis for five times what I was making (don't ask, it was an "executive decision to cut costs" I'm told). In fact they've been doing so for over a year now.  They could teach those young bucks how to diagnose their legacy system for a fraction of what they've been paying me, but that would apparently cut into the department manager's personal budget and cost him part of his yearly bonus. Whereas my pay is covered by the company's financial department. I quit trying to make sense of it. Whatever warped logic is at work is beyond me.

 

Otherwise I'm not going anywhere. And if my friends give me guff about going back to school, I can just point out that my schooling is covered completely by the grants and scholarships I qualify for, while whenever they have to take any sort of training they have to pay for it out of their own pockets.

 

 

I am very glad to hear it on several levels. However, it reminds me of a true story that I'll share with you.

 

My wife is a registered nurse and was working for a local hospital which shall remain nameless. At the time the hospital was having financial problems and they hired a "hot shot" CEO for a million dollars a year (this was when a million dollars a year meant something). Within a year the hospital had gone bankrupt. My wife's comment on the whole affair was, "I wish they'd paid me a million dollars. I could have made the hospital go bankrupt in a year too." ?

[Ernest Lemmingway]

2 hours ago, Psalam said:

Spoiler

 

I am very glad to hear it on several levels. However, it reminds me of a true story that I'll share with you.

 

My wife is a registered nurse and was working for a local hospital which shall remain nameless. At the time the hospital was having financial problems and they hired a "hot shot" CEO for a million dollars a year (this was when a million dollars a year meant something). Within a year the hospital had gone bankrupt. My wife's comment on the whole affair was, "I wish they'd paid me a million dollars. I could have made the hospital go bankrupt in a year too." ?

 

 

That's actually what I keep expecting from my current employer. But I'm just a lemming, not an executive. Whatever warped logic they follow is beyond me.

 

Now let's dispense with this silliness for my usual brand of silliness. Companies making illogical decisions reminds me too much of the brouhaha that Bugthesda is mired in.

[Psalam]

Please, oh please get back to the silliness that makes this a thread that I keep returning to!  ?

[Ernest Lemmingway]

On 11/11/2018 at 1:47 PM, woolsack said:

does the story contain incest and beastiality? wall of texts scare me :s

Sorry for the late reply: no, this is not a sexual thread. If it were, I would have posted it in the Adult Stuff sub-section.

[Ernest Lemmingway]

Depressing Holidays: Relatives

 

After spending three days in court waiting to be called as a witness after somebody threatens me with violence for saying, "I found it (FO76) buggy and dull, so I didn't like," I can truly say that the 'Murican Justice System is little more than a bureaucracy trying to justify itself. It takes the courts three days to determine that someone who takes a video game so seriously they draw a knife and threaten to cut someone "from neck to nuts" just because they say they didn't like it "violently unstable?" And that threatened someone is a little blue lemming?! Then again, I remember the OJ Simpson trials and how long those lasted. Sometimes I think we really should do what Shakespeare said and, "Kill all the lawyers."

 

Guy was found guilty, sentenced to six months in county lockup, and then two years of mandatory counseling and anger management therapy. I'd say he got off lightly. The mountain of evidence, his outbursts in court, and the fact he threatened a fuzzy little critter that could fit in the palm of his hand speaks to much deeper problems than zealous devotion to a video game franchise. But I'm not a human being. I subscribe to a much simpler creed: threaten me or mine, and I'll hide in your shoes and bite your toes off.

 

During that interminable stay where I couldn't work, couldn't play any video games, and couldn't even have my phone on, I got a message from my Canadian aunt and uncle. They're going to visit me this year. And they already made travel arrangements without calling me and checking my schedule. You might remember them: the uncle who's spear bald because he listened to Red Green and tried to fix everything with duct tape (fur and duct tape don't mix), the aunt who drinks while she cooks and winds up ordering out because she started a kitchen fire, and the cousin who's dating a...bunny! The one who had a wild hare up her ass last year.

 

I'm not a great host. What I can't take-and-bake from a store, I order out for myself. Cooking isn't something beyond my skills, it's just beyond my threshold of boredom. Even though I love watching Good Eats. I just find Alton Brown's unique mix of science and the screwball entertaining. So I'm pretty familiar with the Kenfucky Tried Chicken, the Popeye's, the Panda Express, the various burger and pizza joints in the human town. And I'm familiar with Dave's usual rant whenever he catches me eating fowl. Apparently Dovahchicken just can't accept that his species--descendants of the mighty T-Rex--is the one animal that is universally eaten because...well, they're so tasty and delicious! And don't mention Hot Shots: Part Deux around him; he still has nightmares about the chicken arrow scene.

 

Food isn't the only problem. I prefer to keep a neat, clean burrow. To the point of following folks with a Dust Buster. Those people are the three biggest slobs I've ever met! Food wrappers mixed with dirty utensils, used paper plates, unwashed cups, and that's just their beds. I still cringe whenever I think of what their bathroom was like. A toilet bowl should not look like a petri dish. Bars of soap shouldn't be so covered with dead flies that it's hard to tell it's soap. And the razors covered with dried foam and hairs...by Dog! Where in the world did that come from?! We're lemmings! We don't shave anything!

 

And, of course, there's the tourist thing. I am not donning my human rig, driving four hours north, and then spending eighty bucks a ticket to see some Xmas lights on trees at night in a tour that rushes you through so fast you barely have time to take a picture. Nor am I driving another hour for the Dicken's Festival when it's been over for a week by the time they get here. Instead all we do is hit a mall, the women shopping at every store while uncle and I try not to drop due to boredom, thirst, and the weight of everything they buy. Customs doesn't even let you bring more than a certain dollar amount across the Canadian border. I am not shipping them everything they bought via UPS over several weeks. Again.

 

What if I wanted to celebrate Hanukkah with Moose? Yes, he's Jewish. Not practicing but he still lights the menorah, observes Yom Kippur, and observes Kosher dietary laws...usually. I'm not entirely sure the dips he eats meet rabbinical standards, though. And yes, Hanukkah will be over by the time they arrive. But the big lug needs someone to spend some time with him when the vast majority of us woodland critters celebrate Christmas. Not like those Christmas Critters! We're screwy out here in the forest but not like that.

 

But they've forced me to bow to the flight schedules of the major airlines, the sadistic way said airlines change the times you can use your air miles, and I'll have to host them with a big grin on my face even when I want to rip out their large intestines and strangle them with such. Because that's what family is for.

[Ernest Lemmingway]

Depressing Holidays: Cold Season

 

As I write this I have an air moisturizer going, I'm eating spicy foods, and I'm half-drunk on a generic version of Nyquil that kept the effective ingredient. Why? Because my little head is so plugged up I can't hear out of one ear, my nose stopped working, and my throat feels like a prostitute's after starring in a seedy bukkake film. Or so I imagine in regards to the last one. People don't realize that lemmings can catch colds. Which basically kills the old wive's tale that being out in the cold causes colds. Oh, no. This was an early Xmas present from someone. They probably don't even know they gave it away.

 

Worse still, I've got two days until my relative's from Canada arrive. I still haven't finished installing the heavy duty deadbolt locks on ninety-percent of the doors in my burrow, nor have I finished wrapping all the furniture...and appliances...and carpeting and walls in plastic. I don't mind if those slobs muck up their own home. But after my other Canadian family on the other side of the country visited earlier this year, I'm not taking any chances. I'm still finding moldy chocolate spread squeezed into the oddest places. And don't even ask about the pistachios!

 

By now my nose is red from all the blowing and I could give Rudolph a break this year. Amazing how a critter as small as me could go through half a box of tissues. But it does beat spending money on a night light or even a flashlight when I can't find the light switch in the dark. I just hope I don't go color blind from it.

 

My friends have also been staying away while I recover. Except for Melissa. Little white mice have discovered a cure for the common cold but they won't share it with us lesser species! Instead she's brought me extra spicy chicken soup, the better to clear my sinuses. Needless to say, it ain't working! I feel like Dave Lister from Red Dwarf when he caught the space mumps.

 

It's so nice to know who your friends are when you're sick. Cecil and Dave both too chicken (no pun intended, Dave) to come close to the burrow unless I buy a UV-C lamp or otherwise sterilize the entire place with bleach. Lipps and Millie have been down in Brazil for nearly two months by now. Ted is still fast asleep in his den like every winter. Only Melissa has stuck by my side while I suffer through the worst cold I've had in nearly six years. If I didn't know better I'd think she loved me.

 

Worse still, we've got hunters around again. Why do I call them "hunters?" They're in a national park where hunting is illegal year-round. They're poachers! The MEL will have to make an appearance despite being sick. Thankfully, we animals have the intellectual edge.

[Psalam]

?  I've had the blues,

        the reds and the pinks,

        One thing for sure

          Colds Stink!

 

God bless you!

 

? Oh, Canada! ?

[landess]

On 12/6/2018 at 2:19 AM, Ernest Lemmingway said:

To the point of following folks with a Dust Buster

I just had a flashback to Tom Hanks in "Turner & Hooch"

[worik]

On 12/11/2018 at 12:50 AM, Ernest Lemmingway said:

If I didn't know better I'd think she loved me.

Maybe you don't know better, but she does?  ?

 

Anyway, to your health ?.. or you just mix a vial of "cure this-and-that" potion. You've got an alchemy table in your burrow, don't you?

[Ernest Lemmingway]

1 hour ago, worik said:

You've got an alchemy table in your burrow, don't you?

That's what I call it. The cops call it something else...

[Ernest Lemmingway]

"Attack" of the MEL

 

The Man-Eating Lemming, sick with a cold and carrying a rifle older than any of the poachers, arrived before dawn and watched their campsite. Only several hours after sunrise did they stir, grumbling and miserable, waiting for their coffee to brew over camping stoves exposed to the freezing air. After an hour they swallowed their lukewarm coffee and tried in vain to cook breakfast using damp wood and soggy kindling. After two more hours of trying everything, even throwing gasoline on the fire, they finally piled into their cars and drove into town to get food. The MEL sneaked in and looked closer at their accommodations; cheap nylon tents with no insulating capacity, Dacron-filled sleeping bags, and no ground mats.

 

It would have been so easy to sabotage their guns, crack the lenses in their scopes, or otherwise give myself more of an edge. But even I have a sense of fair play and these dumb animals would need every advantage they could get to compensate for their biggest weakness: themselves.

 

Once they returned they once more began to fuss over their failure to start a fire. It was hours before any of them considered using dry wood. Even then they tried to start with pieces far too large to sustain a fire. By now it was obvious they had never been in the Scouts. To combat the cold they began passing around a bottle of bottom-shelf vodka. Stuff so cheap it only appealed to college students. To add insult to ignorance, they began to discuss alcohol's "miraculous ability to heat the body." All the while the MEL hunting them just sat there, trying not to laugh.

 

As the sun began setting they started getting frustrated at the cold, their inability to start a fire, and the fact that their hunting trip was turning into a disaster. Fueled by booze and stupidity, they decided to do some "night hunting." No night vision gear, just cheap plastic flashlights. So every critter around could see them coming long before they got there and had the chance to hide. All but the MEL, who used a system of tiny winches and pulleys to haul a gun eight times longer than him into the tree branches to watch the comedy. Too bad there was no popcorn.

 

Watching those "real hunters" move around in circles in the dark, making enough noise to wake the grizzlies, was better than anything Hollywood has released. Eventually one of them fired on something they saw moving. Then someone else shot in the dark. And a third. When they finally all converged they realized they'd shot each other. Only none of them knew they'd been shot until someone else pointed out the blood soaking their coats.

 

As the MEL watched, they somehow managed to call the park rangers who came out with an ambulance and a paddy wagon. All five of them were arrested were bringing undeclared firearms into a national park, hunting without licenses, and--of course--attempted poaching. Even the three who needed medical attention loudly protested their "Third Amendment" rights and how they would contact the "RNA" to defend them in court. By then it was just plain pathetic how little these guys actually knew. About camping, about firearms, about anything. What did shooting each other while drunk have anything to do with the quartering of troops? And how would a genetic blueprint help them with a legal case? Although the latter might of some use: they're just dumb enough that the courts might take sympathy on them. Better that they be made into elected officials or business executives than they're allowed to roam free where they can do real damage.

 

The Man-Eating Lemming returned to his burrow, nose running and chest congested, from another successful hunt. One so successful that he didn't need to fire a shot. Others did it for him.

[worik]

4 hours ago, Ernest Lemmingway said:

One so successful that he didn't need to fire a shot. Others did it for him.

I didn't know you were in the "out-tasking" business ?