A response to raccoon hating.

My name is Carl and I’m a raccoon. And yes, I’m writing a blog post. Now this is not a normal activity for us raccoons. But a recent series of events has led me to hijack this poor girl’s blog and speak my mind. I must defend my species.

About a month ago, I was strolling about, looking for a late night snack. Eating can be quite the ordeal. It usually involves climbing into numerous trash cans and tearing through a ton of plastic before I can even begin sorting through the menu. So imagine my surprise when I came along a yard that had a whole buffet of goodies all laid out, just waiting for me to munch. Easy access noms!

I excitedly began running about the yard assembling myself a feast. I was about 3 and 1/2 bites into a delicious sandwich crust, when my mouth began to tingle.

Weird. Probably just eating too fast.

Then it got worse. My eyes began to water and my throat began to burn.

I blinked my eyes repeatedly trying to clear my vision enough to examine the chunk of stale bread in my hands. AAHHHHHHHHHHHH! HOT SAUCE!!

I had been so hungry that I forgot to perform my usual pre-consumption safety checks. My mouth was on fire. I chucked the sabotaged bread and angrily began spitting the rest all over the well manicured lawn. I had been duped. As I quickly made my way to the nearest body of water, it occurred to me that someone (some human) had actually taken the time to plan this attack.

Who would do this? After a few hours of googling, I think I found the culprit.

This fellow, Aaron Bleyaert apparently HATES raccoons. I mean he REALLY HATES RACCOONS. His dedication to the hatred of my species has even permeated his “professional” workplace. He runs the TeamCoco website and actually added raccoon to the profanity filter. I’M NOT KIDDING:

EVIDENCE

There are quite a few errors and fallacious assumptions in Mr. Bleyaert’s observations of my species. Therefore, I must speak up –for myself and for my raccoon brethren.

In his first post of hatred, Mr. Bleyaert makes a list of “facts” in an attempt to have others join him in his evility:

Let’s just all agree on one point: Raccoons are assholes. They are. There are many reasons: They tear through people’s garbage; they carry rabies; my friend Oliver carries a samurai sword when taking out the trash because he’s so afraid of them THEY’RE TOTAL ASSHOLES, I AM TELLING YOU.

OK. Let’s pause for a moment. Not ALL raccoons are assholes. That is just pure specist drivel. I’m sure you know some human assholes. But does that mean ALL humans are assholes? And yes, raccoons have been known to carry rabies. But so do bats, cats, dogs, skunks, foxes, bears, opossums, weasels, wolves, woodchucks, ferrets, squirrels, hamsters, rats, mice, rabbits, chipmunks, guinea pigs and gerbils. According to the World Health Organization, “Dogs are the source of 99% of human rabies deaths.” In fact, reports have indicated that Raccoons infected with rabies are typically non-aggressive and rarely pose a threat to humans.

And as for your friend Oliver, I’m sure the samurai sword works wonders in keeping the raccoons from attacking. But the only reason they run when they see him coming, is fear of being blamed when his dumb ass slices off all his own limbs. Samurai swords are not something to mess with.

Let’s continue.

Do you like raccoons? Here are a couple of factz that just might sway you:

1.) Raccoons are born with tiny burglar masks on their face. NATURE IS TELLING US THAT THESE FUCKING GARBAGE EATERS ARE NOT TO BE TRUSTED.

Again, we’re not ALL untrustworthy. Yes some of us “steal” your trash. BUT IT’S TRASH! You’re throwing it out for god-sakes! Why the hell do you still need it?! We need to eat too.

Ooooh, tiny burglar masks, what a clever comment. You know, I’VE NEVER HEARD THAT BEFORE. I’ll put aside the fact that they aren’t actual masks, (but stripes) and say that masks do not equal criminal activity. For example: a famous Spanish Nobleman, as well many noted superheroes, all wear masks and are known for fighting crime. Ask yourself this, how would you feel if nature had permanently painted your pastey ass with prison stripes, and then every jerkoff in the world tried to portray you as a bad guy when all you’re trying to do is just survive man?! JEEZ.

Moving on.

2.) they don’t have fingerprints. DID YOU KNOW THAT?! IF THEY COMMIT A CRIME WITH THEIR LITTLE SCARY PAWS THEY CAN NEVER BE CONVICTED BECAUSE CSI OR WHATEVER THE FUCK WILL NEVER FIND THEIR FINGERPRINTS BECAUSE THEY ARE RACCOONS AND THEY DON’T HAVE ANY.

Correct, we do not have fingerprints. But again, masks do not equal criminal activity. (see previous comments) And when exactly was the last time the police had to be called in to investigate a raccoon related homicide? Because there must be at least 5 episodes of CSI Miami with Caruso saying “You know what they say… (overly dramatic and unnecessarily long pause) …raccoons have no fingerprints.”

Next.

3.) They have opposable thumbs. What? Not scared yet? Well, think about this: The only thing keeping animals from shooting us with all our own guns is the fact that they don’t have opposable thumbs. I mean, pandas have em, but we all know that pandas are a bunch of fucking pussies. So whatever.

Um, raccoons do NOT have opposable thumbs. Yes, we have a high degree of dexterity in our paws, but our thumbs are not opposable. You must have gotten your information here. However, we do have super sensitive ninja paws that enable us to find food even when we can’t see it. And did you have to bring up pandas’ lack of aggression? You know how sensitive they are about that. Not cool man.

4) Did I mention that raccoons have like face rabies or mouth AIDS or whatever? BECAUSE THEY FUCKING DO. So that’s some shit that you don’t want to fuck with. They’re like zombies, but like animals or whatever. Just kill these fucking raccoons already – if you try to eat them, they taste like chicken with a strong “Chinatown Garbagewater” rub. Not good.

FACE RABIES? Mouth AIDS?!? (sigh) You know what –no comment. And I won’t even ask why you know how raccoons taste. Gross.

They’re being real assholes about this whole thing.

We’re being assholes?

Raccoons: The John Wayne Gacy of nature. What dicks. I mean really.

Eh, could be worse. At least we’re not the Jay Leno of nature.

And that’s about it. My buddy Oliver was right: Raccoons are shitbears. Seriously. Let’s kill them all. I CHALLENGE YOU TO PROVE ME WRONG. Do it. Otherwise, I will do everything in my power to kill raccoons forever. Fuck that shit. Stupid raccoons.

SHITBEARS?! Shitbears, really?! What are we, 9?! And your pal Oliver carries a samurai sword to take out the garbage –there’s nothing ‘right’ about him.

Well I’ve had about enough of this idiocy. I have proven you wrong many times over. But if you need more convincing, I can do it thrice. Just name the time and name the place.

I will leave you with this:

raccoon with samurai sword & 50 cal

Sleep tight Aaron Bleyaert. Don’t let the raccoons bite.

 

Christmas in January

I didn’t really do much for Christmas last year. As a matter of fact, I didn’t wrap one present, purchase any gift certificates, or hang any decorations –2010 was a rough year. But my husband Allen’s family had planned a visit for January. His Mom, Dad, Sister Megan, her two kids Blaise & Payton, and a close friend of the family Mr. Gordon, were all coming to Phoenix for a week to celebrate Christmas with us. We decided we were going to have a traditional Christmas Eve dinner, and even make homemade pierogi like we used to every year when we still lived back in PA. It was a second chance… Christmas in January!

The week before they came, we did a ton of cleaning. Then we dug out the decorations. We used to have a fake Christmas tree, but we never had room for it in the tiny condo we used to own, so we got rid of it a couple of years ago. And even if there had been real Christmas trees still available in January, I wouldn’t have bought one anyway.

I really dislike real Christmas trees. It’s not the trees themselves, it’s the obnoxious waste. It can take up to 6 years to grow a 6ft tree. That’s 6 years of watering, fertilizing and pruning. Then it’s chopped down, shipped to a tree lot, and if it’s lucky, bought by someone who only uses it for about 2 weeks. Then, in the tragic end, it is thrown out and ends up in a landfill. It’s horrific.

So I opted for a space saving, natural resource protecting, modernist interpretation tree.

Christmas Tree of Lights

OK. So maybe it does use some energy. But there’s only 3 strings of lights there and considering most people use about that many, or more, on a real Christmas tree, it’s still a winner. PLUS, in my version, a tree didn’t have to die.

Anyway, Allen’s family came in on Friday. Saturday night we made pierogi but unfortunately I went completely brain-dead and forgot to take pictures. 😦 Such a shame too, because it’s actually a fun process.

Sunday was a storm of cooking and baking. Back in December (Christmas for realsies), I had an idea to make Christmas Tree cupcakes using star shaped cakes. I made them for our Christmas party at work and everyone seemed to like them so I made them again.

I’ll be posting a tutorial for them soon. Although I guess there’s no rush since Christmas is still 335 days away.

After hogging up the kitchen for most of the afternoon with my baking project, I finally cleaned up and got out of the way. Allen and his Mom & Dad started cooking up a storm. Allen’s Dad made this delicious cracker coated fried cod. YUM. And Mr. Gordon, Allen & his Dad had also made fresh Horseradish earlier that day, so we made some cocktail sauce to go with the fish. DOUBLE YUM. The feast was quickly approaching!

Here’s a pretty picture of the table before all the mindless nomming and face stuffing commenced.

When the food was ready and everyone found their seats, I wanted to get a great shot of the whole family at the table. I had to mess with my camera for a bit and everyone was starting to get antsy. There was all this scrumptious food sitting on the table in front of them and I kept trying to get “the perfect photo”. So this is what I ended up with.

My Family looking THRILLED.

Clockwise: My Mom, My Gramm, Clara, Mr. Gordon, Blaise, Allen's Mom, Megan, Payton, Allen's Dad, Margie, Barry, My Dad, Allen

Not too bad. But I love how half the table’s faces read: “FOR THE LOVE OF BABY JESUS, can we just eat already?”. HAHAHA! Oh, and I didn’t make it in the picture because my Canon only has a 2 second timer and I couldn’t run around the counter fast enough. (sigh)

On a yummier note, dinner was delicious. I hadn’t had pierogi in quite a few years and I ended up over doing it a bit. I just couldn’t resist all the buttery, cheesy potato-filled goodness. But that’s what gyms and elastic waisted pants are for.

After dinner, out came the Christmas Tree Cakes and the camera.

My Gramm, Margie, My Mom, and Clara-bug

Allen’s Mom HATES getting her picture taken. I tried to take this one really quick but she has ninja-like reflexes, and hid behind her own camera.

Margie and Allen's Mom

Margie, Allen's Mom

My Gramm

My Gramm

My Mom

My Mommy! ❤

Ha! I finally caught her off guard.

Allen's Mom

The boys went outside and made a fire like a bunch of cavemen. lol

The boys around fire.

My Dad, Allen, Allen's Dad, Barry, Mr. Gordon

The Boys around the fire

My Dad, Allen, Allen's Dad

Christmas in January was a success! Actually, I enjoyed it more than real Christmas. There was no manic last minute shopping, no frustration with trying to find that “perfect gift”, and no ugly sweaters to return. I had a really great weekend and wouldn’t trade it for all the pristinely wrapped presents in the world. Even a shiny new iPad would never have had me laughing as loud, smiling as big, or feeling as grateful for my family and friends as I did this January. Beat that Apple.

just because.

Well, I already fell short of my goal to write at least one blog post a week. But I do have somewhat decent reasons. All last week was Christmas in January, I’ve been busy volunteering my mad, mad, super-fly, D-zign skilz for Lost Our Home Pet Foundation, AND I’ve been sick. Again. (In case you’re all ‘WTF?’ about Christmas in January, posts will be coming soon.)
But enough with the excuses.

I had an idea tonight. I suddenly got the urge to illustrate my Boston Terrier, Amy. So I did:

Boston Industries logo, © nica scott

What’s Boston Industries? I have no idea. Maybe it’s the name the company I will own someday with thousands of Boston Terriers trained to make cute little Boston Terrier stickers, take them into space, cover the surface of the moon and then assist me with world domination. Or maybe I made it just because.

I HATE writing.

It’s true. Something about stringing words together to create sentences and then stringing sentences together to create paragraphs, for me, is just pure TORTURE.

So why the hell start a blog you ask? Great question. I’m glad you are paying attention, (especially since you’re only 4 sentences into this post.)

The answer is, I recently realized why I hate to write so much. IT SCARES THE LIVING BEJEEZUS OUT OF ME. Writing is so damn permanent. It captures your inner dialogue & thoughts and then lingers around for someone to pick up, read, and react/respond/not respond/laugh/misunderstand/pick-apart/whatever. And it’s personal. All of the writing I have ever done (journals, school assignments, songs), always left me with this looming feeling of impending judgement. I never understood why people had this thing with locking up their diaries or trying to hide them. Because my thought always was, “If you don’t want people to know your thoughts, DON’T WRITE THEM DOWN.” So for the most part I didn’t, and when I did, every last word terrified me.

But recently I’ve been experiencing this strong need to share. There’s this voice inside my head screaming “I’VE GOT SOME SHIT TO SAY!” And no matter how much I try to ignore it, it’s not getting any quieter. This rather annoying voice has made me realize that it’s about time to get over this fear of writing. It’s not constructive and I truly believe in some cases, it has held me back. Well, BLOG it is then. Not only will I be writing, but I will throw it out into the wild blue yonder-webs for all to read –oh yeah, and comment.

My goal is to post at least once a week on this blog. I have lots of ideas. They range from completely normal/boring to WTF. My hope is that some of you are at least entertained while I share these ideas with you and overcome my fears in the process.

Blog post #2 complete. Nica, (1) – Fear of writing (0).

I’ve loved you from afar.

Hello blog world. I’ve been watching you. Everyday I read about some of your inhabitants, and I have to say, I really like what you’ve done here. You have some hilarious, inspiring, geeky, creative, (& all awesomely talented) people in your mix.

So I’ve decided to set up shop on the edge of town and hope that some of the greatness rubs off on me. Please feel free to stop by now and again. I’m not completely sure what I’ll have to offer – there is quite a bit of nonsense rattling around upstairs. But I promise I’ll try not to make a mess of the place.

Here’s to the start of something beautiful, slightly insane, or at the very least, mildly entertaining.

Welcome to my blog.