Sometimes I have no idea how we get away with this, and yes I am to blame:
Unless you live in a tree (which I do) you have probably heard that the world will end on May 21. That’s according to an 89-year-old human named Harold Camping. What does this mean? Well, it means the Redskins won’t have a quarterback controversy next season. It means we won’t get to see what Ashton Kutcher would be like on “2.5 Men.” In other words: Bring on the apocalypse.
But in my neck of the woods (which is, literally, a neck of the woods), the chatter has been of a different sort. As squirrels, we don’t believe we’re going anywhere on May 21. (You probably aren’t either, but that’s a question for theologians.) Rodents are unlikely to be Raptured.
We have mixed feelings about this. On the one paw, the fewer humans on this planet, the fewer of us get flattened under steel-belted radials. On the other paw, we rely on birdseed that you guys put in those cylindrical feeders for us. (Thanks!)
We’re going to discuss these sorts of issues today — and anything else that’s on your mind, End o’ the World-wise. Squeak! Squeak! Blink.