Another Year Another Wiggle

i am not a real big believer in new years celebrations, driving drunk across the living room in my GI Joe Hummer is not a pleasant site - i might get pulled over by the dog, get a sniffalyser - the cat would mock me from her sofa'd perch.

why am i to put a lot of stock anyway in some date set by  gregorian monks 1700 years ago?  i heard they were all winos.

uncle freddie last night said:  "those new years resolutions, Sammy?  they're all crap"

but as am wont to do, i've had a chance to reflect and think about my attitude, the things i value most, like my chewed up plastic spoon, the super secret shiny wrapper collection under da sofa; the ice cream sandwich behind the clothes dryer - it's still there, nobody's pilfered it yet...


and i realize i really do have a lot to be grateful for

i've made it another year without actually doing anything important - which is vitally important. i'd hate to think that my reputation for napping was ever impinged

uncle freddie's getting grumpier, and older, and more feeble, but i am grateful for him shaping me into the ferret i am today, an honor to share a tea with him 

the dog didn't really enjoy her bowling ball i got her for Christmas last year, so this year, i gave her a frying pan.  she stared at me with those loving eyes, and I got a lick - that was impressive

the cat, well, let's just say i am grateful for the cat by paying it forward.  that one's on faith.


which pretty much goes for the pet human, i think it has issues, it will probably never really be much use to anyone without me; so i am grateful for the opportunity to be in charge, and keep everything in order.

lastly, i am grateful that i still believe in magic - the best things in life are what we decide to believe in;  and that i can still choose to be happy - no matter how many obstacles come my way.


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if you liked this story, you might like:  i believe in Santa  fairies, magic wizards and big foot

sam is on Twitter at @Samuel_Clemons

if you leave a comment, remember to leave your Twitter Handle, so i can stop by and pilfer a sock

Ksenia Anske - Visits Sam's Lair

They tore at his whiskers. He squealed and bit in the tail of the one that hissed nearby, a few inches by the pipe that opened into gutters. The one nearby moved his massive body a second too late. They all will be doomed, from the tips of their pink tiny tones to the tips of their furry tails, to the very last hair at the very end of each of their ears. All three of them, destined to be swallowed by the vast expanse of slimy gluttony called WOOZEL LAND, ruled by the fattest of them all, with lines of skin rolling in undauntedly clusters on his neck, from brown to beige to a creamy type of white, the result of eating too many pellets of ferret food as proudly produced by Fake VOLE & Co.

He sighed and proceeded to chewing the tail, cleverly using his maneuver to distract the big one and knock the skinny one off balance, all in one swift move with a terrifying dook, a special clucking noise as from an angry chicken. Annoyed and hissing, the big one rolled on his back, straining to pull the tail out of his teeth and escape into the gutter, before it would be too late. Before the impending doom would cover them all with its vast unpreventable vastness and its bleak naked non-furryness that instilled a feeling of absolute horror in anyone who happened to look upon it, except the one that ruled them all, of course.

Our friend suspected, they has some kind of a deal. Possibly, involving mice. Quite possible, still, involving rabbits or some other small rodents, the thought of which was so terrifying that he almost forgot to swallow and clenched his teeth on the big's tail to which he slapped him with a paw and missed, because a sudden itch forced him to arch his fat body back and nervously but with pleasure scratch in that damned spot until it was gone.

The skinny one decided he's not part of the game anymore and shivered, perhaps thinking he could conveniently slink up the drain pipe, perhaps even have enough strength to grasp at its insides with his claws. He pulled back, puffed his tail and performed an extraordinary number of Weasel War Dance, complete with ten bounces, twenty flips, and then popping on the ground.

Our hero simply looked on, his little black eyes distant, contemplating. Perhaps there was a way out, perhaps the universe wouldn't collapse on itself, not yet. Perhaps the hand of wrath hanging over the edge of the impending doom was, after all, something else, an entirely different species. Perhaps...

The cage door opened and Molly dropped a piece of cooked chicken: "Here, fuzzies, come here. Molly's got a treat for you. Come on, get it. Come on, now!" She smiled her punctured eight-year-old smile, unaware of exactly what she has just interrupted.

The end. 

ksenia anske | writer | blog | goodreads
206.229.9674 | twitter | facebook

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i hang up on editors....they beg me to come in, write virtually from home, even call once or twice a month, and nothing works; i refuse to be manipulated by whiskey swilling freaks. ksenia stepped up to the plate here and filled in.   i thought it would fit in well with my  useless drivel.  funny thing happened on her way to my lair, though.  she got 6 other writers to submit ferret tales....  if i could but have their eMail addresses, i could get 6 years worth of writing done for me!!

i tweet at..... well, you know where to find me and tell ksenia how much you just loved the cliff hanger:  @kseniaanske

A Place Called Hope

A Place Called Hope

Or "Sam's Rant"

We were all granted the ability to aspire to, and attain our dreams, not those mandated by gov't but our own lofty goals, and milestones

a new day will shine forth and you will wake to a bright dawn, not a day where you are told what to think by media, but of your own making

we make the day what it is; it is up to each of us to create the moment, and decide to be happy. we are not dependent upon what others say

don't be fooled by the poverty pimps, who think that success is "spread around evenly" or enforced by laws, it is up to each of us to win

we win when we cast off the idea that we must follow the herd, or are granted rights by Gov't.. we win when we decide to win.

the spark of genius is in each of us, individually and given to all of us, no matter what we've done, or our pasts

any time we want to break out of the cycle or label that Gov't has pigeonholed us into, we can. YES WE CAN!! we can break out. right now

no need to wait till tomorrow, we can rise to the occasion now. we can make today that new day, were we decide to succeed.

we are not "victims" of poverty, or unemployment, we have to rise above those notions, and work hard to overcome them, but we are not victim

it is a personal decision to rise above poverty and unemployment and despair...Gov't can't make that decision for us

that hope that burns in you is your hope, not put there by mortal man - NO! it is the spark that we were all granted, and not to be ignored

none of us is so wise that we should ignore our own ability to succeed, and grovel for the crumbs set aside by Gov't

it is up to each of us to recognise our genius, our talents, our hope and dreams, and ACT ON THEM!! and live a prosperous life

We must each rise to our level of awareness, genius and ability individually on our own, for it is only ourselves that we can change. 

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Take from Real Tweets, Sept 8th, 2012  Afternoon

Follow Sam on Twitter at http://twitter.com/Samuel_Clemons

 

Its the Alpaca Lips!

it's been a while since my last wee post. ruling the universe as a dysfunctional, manic, hyper spaz narcissist can be exhausting.  i've increased my nap schedule, no surprise there.

uncle freddie:  "Sammy, i don't see what the fascination is with alpaca lips, has the world gone completely mad?"

me:  "alpaca lips?  i think you mean: The Apocalyspe, Uncle Freddie"

" exactly, Sammy, what is the world coming too, when pet humans talk about them on the radio, write blog posts, are completely immersed in  pack animals' lips!??"

me:  "Freddie, they mean The Apocalypse.  T H E Apocalypse, you know?"

"i know, it's ridiculous, Sammy, i for one have much better things to do"

me: "is this why you called, to discuss a critter's lips? i'm trying to BBQ over here, and the dogs are out there howling for me to join them for a romp in the woods"

Uncle Freddie:  "well if you run across any alpacas, Sammy, check out their lips, and see if there's a story in all this. probably just another pet human craze. it'll die down. it's not like anyone is predicting the end of the world or anything...jeesh. alpaca lips.  it's crazy!"  and he hung up.

i have to convince him to get his hearing checked. 


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i tweet at @Samuel_Clemons

he's ruined

this guy says i ruined his life!!

 
                                                 dat's a lil' unfair aint it?



all i did was "like" his girfriend's facebook.   i must admit, i gots dat

~wiggle wiggle~

xxxxxTTTTT
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i tweet at @Samuel_Clemons

if you leave a comment, don't forget to please use your twitter handle

in this series:  my faux business venture on Facebook

fake girlfriend troubles

i'd skipped out on dat lady therapist a few weeks back without paying; after she talked me down from my mania.  being text dumped is no laughing manner.  i know you're probably chuckling - sure it was a faux girlfriend, and i was offering my services as purely a literary device.   frankly, i think the pet human dumped me off at the therapist's office so it could get some shopping done without me.  it thinks i am the cause of spending sprees.     i quickly found another faux gal.  back in the saddle, i  could offer facebook posts, maybe send a flirtatious tweet, get her real boyfriend jealous 

it was all working out perfectly, until.................

   
i shouldn't have given the therapist her phone number as a reference

rodent indeed
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if you'd like to comment, please leave your twitter handle

and stop on by anytime we'll have a spot o' tea

the pre facebook text dump

my fake girlfriend service on facebook

how shopping got me into family counseling  


Oh! Almost forgot: Sam's Dating Tips!!  http://www.scribd.com/doc/48856487/Sarcastic-Sam-Dating-Tips

More Likes than any critter on da planet

my plan is simple: i will get more facebook "likes" than any critter in da Universe.

now, now, don't go to thinkin' "uh, oh. another of Sam's crackpot schemes...like dat time he attempted to corner the Pop Tart Market during the hurricane"  no, this one will work, i'm tellin' ya!!

i figure dat lil button on facebook is addictive.  we log in, and wanna see how many folks have mentioned us, or "liked" us, and stopped by for tea.  it's irresistible, we are compelled to click dat lil red button!

but not me.  by not clicking it, i have found that it keeps going up and up and up... the possibilities are endless... i'm going for a gazilliontrillion likes, to see if the lil red box get's any bigger, or facebook just tries to crowd the figure into the same sized box... kinda like wondering if the Odometer on the car really goes up to a million

this just in, Mary my detractor:  "But Sam, it doesn't mean you have any more likes, only that you are saving them all up?"

Oh, Mary, you and your tractors.  at least i am resisting the urge to click dat button!

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on facebook: http://www.facebook.com/SamLClemons

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these kids are trying to get ferrets legalised in California
http://www.indiegogo.com/TheFerretSquad