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August 2008 Archives

August 11, 2008

gerretThe Chicken Came First

jane.jpg

There's been some rumbling behind my butt lately that The Gerret is a bit of an elitist who's not all that in touch with the more, ah, "working class" animals around here. It's been suggested that I think I'm better than everyone else, that I think that everyone else's shit doesn't stink as good as mine.

So? What can I say? There's a reason my middle name is Alpha.

However, as Chigger has pointed out, this has created a bit of a dilemma for me, since not all the other animals recognize the reality of their lives relative to the reality of The Gerret and sometimes fail to exhibit the appropriate approbation. And yet I so desire to be a benevolent despot.

So after studying the lives of contemporary politicians, I've come up with a plan to win the hearts and minds of my constituents. I will pander.

To do this I'm initiating an occasional feature here called "Profiles Encourage" [them to like me]. I will flatter them. They will share their food with me. Pure genius. Today's profile is on Jane.

Jane is a chicken. She's been around here since before The Gerret was bored. Actually she's what they call an Easter Egg chicken because she lays blue and green eggs. (You have to take that with a grain of salt. They may be blue or green on the outside, but they're still white and yellow on the inside.)

Anyway, every day when Stump leaves the house to go to the office, Jane tags along, waits for the door to open. Then she goes inside, jumps up on the desk, finds her box in the corner and sits there, sometimes for hours, until she lays an egg. Pretty weird, but here's proof. Pay attention and you'll here the egg drop and see it roll around.

Argh. The Gerret has to admit that after that display I'm sorta glad I don't have to lay eggs.

August 18, 2008

gerretAnd the livin' is easy

by Gerret, file under: About Me

dogddays.jpg
Fo shizzle my nizzle, that Michael Felps dude don't have a clue what to do when he gets near a swimming pool in the summer time. You don't see The Gerret thrashing through the water, am I right? Ain't a gold medal in the world that tastes as good as some left over hamburger from the ol' barbecue grill. There'll be time enough for swimming after I'm too old to seriously scavenge the paper plates. When folks invites The Gerret over for a pool party, they expects no less. Piece out.

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