Animals: Just Slamina Backwards? (Pt. 2)

As a child, I grew up believing in two things. First, animals want to maintain peace with humans as much as we want to not get dead by them. Two, the chemical that turns blue when you pee in a public pool, aptly named “Wee-Wee-See,” was abundant in every source of water. There were some other things I believed. For instance, bears dance on giant inflatable balls instinctually but prefer to do so while wearing tutus (Looney Tunes was rather convincing at the tender age of 14). Elvis is still dead, but asked in his last will and testament that his identical twin brother Wesley appear in public once in awhile. But we aren’t here to talk about those. More appropriately, we can’t talk about those. Because you are reading this. And I am not in your room. Probably.

As I mentioned in the riveting first part to my symposium (a word that I don’t care if I used correctly) on animals, entitled “Animals: Crackers in Your Soup?” I hope to defend you from the wiles of the wild. Part 1 did not deal with soup, as much as it dealt with animals, and crackers were entirely out of the picture since racial stereotypes are wrong. This writer is colorblind to all races. Literally, totally colorblind. It doesn’t affect my ability to enjoy not enjoying “Two and a Half Men,” but it gets darn tricky at stoplights. And parking lots. That seems like it would be someone’s excuse for stealing a car on NCIS. I didn’t say it was a good one. Just…whatever. Anyways. I am Micah Smith, animal whatever-the-opposite-of-enthusiast-is, and I am here today or whenevs to give you the means to prepare yourself against the oncoming onslaught of ocelots and octopi openly overcoming our…world. Dang. Alliteration combo breaker.

Animals seem harmless enough, mauling the occasional fat kid left behind by his school bus, forcing him to walk through old Wild Cat Mountain Death Road, a place no human has ventured since the old “Campfire-Story-Made-Up-Last-Name” triplets disappeared on the way to a bar mitzvah… Wasn’t even that good of a bar mitzvah.  But here are some facts and statistics that could be factual or statistical had they not been partially-to-entirely falsified:

1. 1.     Animals understand the concept of land ownership, ex. The Lion King. “Everything the light touches”? More like…you know… just “everything.”
2. 2.     Animals have no remorse for killing, ex. A caterpillar I saw bite a leaf one time. It got brown, and now that leave will have to live the rest of its life dead.
3. 3.     Animals can smell fear but can’t smell themselves, ex. I assume this is true, because if dogs could smell themselves I’d imagine they’d be more inclined to bathe.

So yeah, that was a good time-killer. What else… Have you guys ever seen “All Dogs Go To Heaven”? Have you noticed that movie proves its own title to be incorrect? There is this bulldog in it that is kinda a prude but you’re cool with it because at the end he turns good, but for a majority of the thing he’s in Dog Hell. That’s disturbing because even the worst dogs should probably at least get Dog Limbo or whatever. Permission to sidebar? Sidebar granted: Limbo would be a much more entertaining place to be if you got out when you won at limbo. Not many Jamaicans there, probably.

To continue on the subject of animals, a subject I almost forgot I was on, there are three different categories of danger in which we should classify all various animals, based on their dangerous qualities. They are as follows, from least threat to you being dead already:

1. 1.     Green: Moderate risk. Animals may have fluffy appendages; often sing songs about sharing/caring/staring/old-timey jazz standards; made out of gummy material.
2. 2.    Yellow: Risky risk. Animals have small- to medium-sized horns/claws/government mind control devices; dress up as grandparents (whether for attack purposes or just general enjoyment of fine linens).
3. 3.     Fuchsia: X-treme risk. Animals exhibit signs of having rabies, having babies, or both; dislike of old-timey jazz standards; cause sudden loss of the first “E” in “extreme” and dramatic capitalization of the “X”.

So there you have it. I trust you have found this to be insightful. It may not be true, but I trust it regardless. If I could leave you with one final word it would be “Don’t die.” And that alone might keep you alive. I hope to one day hear from my millions of readers (but I will settle for two) about how the information digital-scribbled on this screen has saved you from the Colgate-whitened, minty-flavored jaws of death countless numbers of a single time.

Party moderately, chaps,

Dr. Lt. Gen. Micah Smith, PhD.