Nature. Hippies and other tree-hugging types are often going on and on about how great it is. Is it really?

I decided to investigate.

First off, there is no way in hell I am going to actually go camping or anything like that. I am a huge fan of central air and indoor plumbing. So camping is just out.

Instead, I have decided to spend a few leasurely hours in my front yard.

I'll go do that now.



OK. I gotta tell you. That was an incredibly bad idea. One time I told a guy who outweighed me by about fifty pounds that he could go **** himself. That was a much better idea than this whole nature thing.

I began by sitting near a tree in the yard. The sun was shining and I had a nice Camel light going to help block the harmful effects of unfiltered nature air. Dogs and birds fart outside. I'm not going to risk breathing that stuff.

Soon enough, a cute little woodland creature of the squirrel persuasion began meandering my way. I put my cigarette out on the ground and reached my left hand out towards him. He looked fuzzy so I thought he might be fun to pet. Maybe we could bond and I could carry him around in my pocket. It would make for a really good conversation starter. At least, that is what was going through my mind at the time.

As the little guy neared me, I heard a strange sound from above. Looking up, I was greeting with the awe inspiring vision of a bird relieving himself (or herself...I don't know how you tell with birds). Unfortunately, the bird **** landed dead in my left eye.

I don't know if you have ever experienced this particular facet of nature...but that **** burns. A lot.

With the fury burning through my cornea, apparently I began flailing madly. I think the poor squirrel took this as a threat. In any case, he decided at that moment that his best course of action would be to sink his tiny jaws into my hand.

Seriously. Those little bastards have some really sharp teeth. This is something that I was wholly unaware of. Memo to Disney: Chip and Dale are far from accurate representations of these woodland hooligans.

After shaking the squirrel loose (which in actuality required bashing his tiny fuzzy form against the aforementioned tree repeatedly until unconciousness took him) I ran inside to get a band-aid.

As I type this, I am noticing that the bite mark is rapidly turning a strange shade of purple. Much akin to the wardrobe Prince wore during his Purple Rain era.

Man...now that was a sweet movie. Occasionally it turns up on weekend television. Who would have thought that a dude with a jibungous pompadour and an outfit from the colonial era could get so much tail in Minnesota? Note to self: Minnesota is cool.

OK. I am beginning to notice that a strange and warm sensation is overcoming me. Slight feelings of the delusional type are filling my head.

Have you ever made an entire diorama of the Last Supper using only potatoes and dry macaroni? Me neither, but I am suddenly oversome with the desire to do so.

I think I should probably go to the hospital now.

Nature: F

riiiight


but no to the question, nor do I have the desire to even though I live in Idaho