My father and I were discussing the logistics of feeding his pet owl in the forest, and I reminded him the pet store sells mice for snakes - they must let you buy them for owls too, otherwise that would be 'bird-ist'.
His reply:
Bird-ists – that’s gonna leave a mark!
But they deserve it.
I mean, really, owls are people too.
And they gotta eat.
How dare they think their cute little furry hamster is too good for my owl! The nerve!
Everybody’s got to die sometime and why not quickly with massive talons
ripping into your flesh and organs.
It’d be a quick and sure death a Klingon would be proud of.
It’s a good day to die, Hammy.
Just thought I should share.
That's where I get it from.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
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6 comments:
Yeah, you are your father's daughter. My mother told me this morning not to put my head in the oven. So, you see, I know where I get it, too.
I have to agree with your mother.
"That's where I get it from." I trust you mean "it" in a positive, admiring, ever-remindful of the quality of your upbringing kinda way. No problem. You're welcome. You were always my favorite daughter. Even when the "game over" light came on in your Hyundai. Well, not so much exactly right then, but almost all of the remainder of the time. "Go, Tigers! Get busy!"
of course - nothing but love and respect for my Dadooooooooooooo, no teasing at all. Nope. I wouldn't do that.
Dude, your dad rocks.
I never knew that reading about owls ripping apart cute little hamsters could give me such a warm fuzzy feeling inside.
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