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July 05, 2006

When Gaia Attacks

Image2.jpg It's been a long time since the half-vast editorial staff last contemplated our navel place in the natural order of things. Living in our crunchy granola neighborhood here in Western Maryland, we often reflect sadly on how a rigid, male-dominated society has managed to sever our joyous Connection to the Eternal Feminine. Since our next-door neighboor moved to Mt. Shasta the scent of patchouli is sadly missing from our lives. The sound of the Spirit Drum is no longer heard in the Land, and no Ojibwa crystal garden glows in the moonlight of our eternal soul.

paul.jpg Often, after wasting an entire afternoon watching Rosie O'Donnell reruns, we rail against a harshly repressive Patriarchy that keeps us from tearing off our clothes and having naked pillow fights with large-breasted coeds with low IQs and even lower morals.

Damn them! What red-blooded woman would want Adrian Paul when she could indulge the beautiful and natural homoerotic urges that lie simmering just beneath the surface of each of us? But Men secretly hate Nature. The proof is all around us.

Why just last weekend we arrived home in the wee hours of the morning from DC. As we pulled into our driveway, the Spousal Unit leaned in to commence stealing our oxygen, preparatory to his habitual attempts to deprive us of various articles of clothing (as though they would fit him!).

He stopped suddenly. We prepared to make a run for it. But our path was blocked. There was an Animal standing in the yard, not ten feet from the car door.

"Oh, look!", we cooed in our best girly voice, astutely stating the obvious with our usual brand of blithering blinding intelligence. "A deer!"

"Beat it!", said the spousal unit sternly, forestalling our attempt to commune with Gaia's Creature, who was, in any event, busy chowing down on $50 worth of our best miniature daylillies.

The deer eyed him specutively, munching away as though he had all the time in the world.

The Spouse opened the car door. The deer didn't budge.

Finally, as the husband shoo'ed him off, the deer ambled off into the back yard. The Spouse stomped into the house and onto our back balcony. The juvenile deerlinquent was standing in the middle of our back yard, munching on a mouthful of greenery.

"Take a hike!", yelled The Patriarchy. Off ran the deer.

The Victor triumphantly claimed his prize in a rite as old as time.

The next morning, on the hood of his bright red sports car lay a large tree limb. And a small dent.

It's not nice to diss Mother Nature.

Posted by Cassandra at July 5, 2006 12:22 PM


Well yeah, I am sure the brut had it coming but what the hell did I do to deserve such treatment?

You are such a self-absorbed species. Makes me ill. Physically. Ill.

Posted by: The Limb at July 5, 2006 01:39 PM

Ignore him, the bastard got what he had coming. He never was a team player.

Posted by: The Tree at July 5, 2006 01:55 PM

Oh shut up tree, your idea of team player is working longer hours year after year without ever getting a pay raise.


Posted by: The Leaf at July 5, 2006 02:10 PM

My wife finds that nightly applications of Ammonia (the plain, not lemon-scented variety) keep the deer away from most everything, while a liberal application of cayenne powder mixed with garlic powder deters them from even their particular favorites. Keeps rabbits off too, and it's much cheaper than "Deer-Away" type sprays.

Posted by: Grim at July 5, 2006 02:27 PM

Hey! Bambi!

You lookin' at us? ARE YOU LOOKIN' AT US????

Posted by: The Headlights at July 5, 2006 03:21 PM

That was truly awful.

We're ashamed of ourselves.

Posted by: The Headlights at July 5, 2006 03:22 PM

It must be the fact that spd keeps staring at us all the time.

Posted by: The Headlights at July 5, 2006 03:23 PM

Talk about self-absorbed... sheesh.

Posted by: Sponge at July 5, 2006 03:26 PM

Hey, our coverings, which are unnatural to begin with and should be burned, aren't going to fit you, Mr. Handsie. Let us go. We have nurturing to do.

Posted by: The Other Headlights (those that were inside the car) at July 5, 2006 03:33 PM

"My wife finds that nightly applications of Ammonia (the plain, not lemon-scented variety) keep the deer away from most everything,"

When she starts dabbing it behind her ears, pulse points and spritzing the bed pillows with it......uhm.....you might want to invest in a spell checker....dear. heh.
Reflecting back on the 2000 AlphaMaleGore tonsilectomy he performed on Tipper....thinking of Al Franken, Michael Moore & the ilk like.....makes me wish I were gay, but then Adrian Paul makes me wish I didn't wish what I wish where Al and Mikey are concerned.

well, yeah, Cass....unfortunately that spousal unit of yours is still of the lesser gender, but if he were full on redneck, he'd have Dick Cheneyed that poor deer right between it's big doe eyes, not just shooe'd it away.

Posted by: Rocky Mtn. Lioness at July 5, 2006 03:53 PM

You headlights sure are dimbulbs. All I've herd from you so far is you Fawning all over yourselves! It's not like I was looking at you thinking "whoa...what a Rack!"

Posted by: The Deer at July 5, 2006 03:58 PM

And here we thought you were going to accuse us of being just a couple of Boobs.


Posted by: The Headlights at July 5, 2006 04:04 PM

We think we're just going to go home and play with ourselves.

Posted by: The Headlights at July 5, 2006 04:04 PM

"We think we're just going to go home and play with ourselves."

Oh that oughta bring back some fawnd mammary's.

Posted by: The Deer at July 5, 2006 04:19 PM

Shame on you. Think of the children.

Over the hills and through the woods... to Grandmother's house we go...

Posted by: Little Red Riding Hood at July 5, 2006 04:25 PM

I knew my dad was Poplar with the trouble makers. He always said I'd grow up to be a hoodlimb, just like him. It was en-grained in me. *sniff* The last time I saw him, I knew it wood be his last brush with the law(n), too.......and the last time we'd hang out together. *sniff* Ah what's the use...Weeping Willownly make you meanies accuse me of being a sap. Just watch where you hang out though & who you choose to fall-ow, tomorrow we might ALL be in a more Chipper state!

Posted by: The Limb at July 5, 2006 04:35 PM


Oooh, Chip! Way to stick it to 'em!

I just *love* puns, don't you? Some people think blondes don't get sophisticated double entendre, but as Marie Antoinette once said, they can just eat stake.

Posted by: Bambi at July 5, 2006 04:58 PM

You people are sick!!!
Does anyone have a clue as to what I suffer when the two carbon based units give in to masculinity?
Do you know how hard it is to get those smudge marks off of my windows?
Impossible, I tell you!!!
It revs my engine AND chaps my firestones.
This ain't no paradise by the dashboard light.
No sirree.

Tree, limb, and leaf ain't got nothing on me.
If my seats could talk...
Oh wait..
they can.

Posted by: the red at July 5, 2006 06:13 PM

Look Buster, we don't want to hear it.

We take the brunt of all that fumbling about in the dark. We can't tell you how many of us have come to an untimely end, ripped right out of our neat little rows by those animals!

As far as we're concerned, life in the Grand Tetons is nasty, brutish, and short.

We're tellin' ya, it's a jungle in there!

Posted by: The Hooks In The Back at July 5, 2006 06:36 PM

And to think Cassandra had the audacity to make fun of my harmless comment about a certain mixed drink.

Posted by: Grim at July 5, 2006 06:51 PM

*LMAO from the sidelines*

Posted by: FbL at July 5, 2006 07:14 PM

Well. as I said, Grim, it *did* make me blush.

And this wasn't all me. There were 4 or 5 other people involved you know... Not that that's any excuse :)

Posted by: Cassandra at July 6, 2006 06:18 AM

You freakin' limb. My hood is dented because of the tree rats communing with the deer. You nature types are sick twisted people. So, it is with great glee that I announce that my brothers and I will be clear cutting your butts into oblivion.

Posted by: Cricket at July 6, 2006 02:15 PM

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