Wait, shouldn’t that be “how many try to hunt me” or “how many try to shoot me?” People hunting possums usually don’t shout “I’m gonna put you in mah belly!” Fat bastard style. Or is this a very odd form of reality blindness?
In Vermont they call them Mountain Men: I dunno whether they are as loudly opinionated as the more southern varieties, let alone the Beverly Hills sub-type.
Around here, possum are just a nuisance animal. Once every few years, we get one that ventures up on the porch, and we’ve ended up needing to kill a couple of them to protect our pets. Mostly we just leave them be, since they help keep the rodent and insect populations down. There are some areas in the South where they eat A LOT of possum.
I’ve met a few people who actually talk to the animals they’re hunting and tell them that they’re going to be their dinner – as if knowing you’re going to become someone’s next meal is supposed to assuage any regrets you may have about being shot.
(TUNE: “Everything Is Awesome”, Shawn Patterson, Jo Li, & The
Lonely Island)
Let’s all eat opossum!
With his little lab coat and nearsighted eyes,
Let’s all eat opossum!
And we’ll serve him with some fries!
In my sights, the blighter’s right there in my cross-hairs!
All I hear is his fear, I wouldn’t want to be him!
Let’s now fricassee him!
And my brain won’t retain what I see,
‘Cause I’m blind to re-al-i-ty …
Let’s all eat opossum!
First we gotta shoot him, make sure that he died,
Then we’ll eat opossum
With a salad on the side!
Good. It’s more contemporary than my usual picks. And it saves me the trouble of posting later in the morning—maybe Tuesday, what with my disordered schedule of late.
Wait a minute. You just retired and you still have a schedule? Step 1 is supposed to be Throw Out All Alarm Clocks, or in our age, Disable All Wakeup Alarms.
More what I have to do tending to my mother. Last night it was her air conditioner—that’s why I was still up in the wee hours of the morning. (Though I would have been if I were still working.)
Mind you, Sweetheart is letting her prejudices show here since it is quite possible that after enough weirdness people, particularly those in superhero universes, simply take anything new in stride without being surprised. Largo comes to mind here as an example of this. Even without bh33r he’d probably take a “Everything is normal” approach to talking possums. ^_^
“Hamster, hamster by candle light.
Do it in a casserole is doing it right.
When they’re in season, they’re pretty pleasin’.
Hamster sandwich, hamster and cheese.
Hamster sandwiches with mayoneeze,
are delicious, and so nutritious.
Scritchies are nice.
I could use some.
Is he that tasty?
Let’s find out.
Depends entirely on his diet. If he rummages through the garbage forget it.
Simply the smell of cooking him will evacuate three counties.
Wait, shouldn’t that be “how many try to hunt me” or “how many try to shoot me?” People hunting possums usually don’t shout “I’m gonna put you in mah belly!” Fat bastard style. Or is this a very odd form of reality blindness?
given that so far the only possum dishes I know are from The Beverly Hillbillies, I’d say they could be shouting quite a lot of things
In Vermont they call them Mountain Men: I dunno whether they are as loudly opinionated as the more southern varieties, let alone the Beverly Hills sub-type.
Around here, possum are just a nuisance animal. Once every few years, we get one that ventures up on the porch, and we’ve ended up needing to kill a couple of them to protect our pets. Mostly we just leave them be, since they help keep the rodent and insect populations down. There are some areas in the South where they eat A LOT of possum.
I’ve met a few people who actually talk to the animals they’re hunting and tell them that they’re going to be their dinner – as if knowing you’re going to become someone’s next meal is supposed to assuage any regrets you may have about being shot.
Urgh; possum is VERY, VERY high in saturated fats.
It must be unhealthy, being a possum.
I’d certainly want to give Sweetheart scritchies.
(TUNE: “Everything Is Awesome”, Shawn Patterson, Jo Li, & The
Lonely Island)
Let’s all eat opossum!
With his little lab coat and nearsighted eyes,
Let’s all eat opossum!
And we’ll serve him with some fries!
In my sights, the blighter’s right there in my cross-hairs!
All I hear is his fear, I wouldn’t want to be him!
Let’s now fricassee him!
And my brain won’t retain what I see,
‘Cause I’m blind to re-al-i-ty …
Let’s all eat opossum!
First we gotta shoot him, make sure that he died,
Then we’ll eat opossum
With a salad on the side!
Good. It’s more contemporary than my usual picks. And it saves me the trouble of posting later in the morning—maybe Tuesday, what with my disordered schedule of late.
Wait a minute. You just retired and you still have a schedule? Step 1 is supposed to be Throw Out All Alarm Clocks, or in our age, Disable All Wakeup Alarms.
More what I have to do tending to my mother. Last night it was her air conditioner—that’s why I was still up in the wee hours of the morning. (Though I would have been if I were still working.)
Well, that will be in my head all day! Love the song, love the filk.
If Pogo was alive today he’d roll over in his grave.
I’m oddly comforted to know I’m not the only person who makes “If X were alive today he’d roll over in his grave” jokes.
Well done as usual, Eddurd!
It’s pleasantly invigorating to read your filks. We miss you when you’re not here.
Mind you, Sweetheart is letting her prejudices show here since it is quite possible that after enough weirdness people, particularly those in superhero universes, simply take anything new in stride without being surprised. Largo comes to mind here as an example of this. Even without bh33r he’d probably take a “Everything is normal” approach to talking possums. ^_^
And since this policeman has clearly talked to possums before this fable comes to mind.
http://www.mythfolklore.net/aesopica/perry/10.htm
The surprise would be if he *was* still fazed by talking possums. @_@
I wanna know how the possum’s glasses are staying on.
“Special shoes.”
Prehensile temples.
Nah. Just superglue.
Borrowed ’em from Leo.
Trained fleas.
Appropos of this:
“Hamster, hamster by candle light.
Do it in a casserole is doing it right.
When they’re in season, they’re pretty pleasin’.
Hamster sandwich, hamster and cheese.
Hamster sandwiches with mayoneeze,
are delicious, and so nutritious.
You can dice, you can slice and fillet them.
Cut off their heads and sauté them.
And into the oven you shove,
smells like hamster love.”
—not me, somebody else, but performed by Big Daddy. In fact…
This is deranged, depraved, and downright demented and disturbing. I love it. I may make it my ringtone.
I loved the Bog Daddy Sgt. Pepper’s! Thanks for the reminder. Their Chantmania was also a gem.
Don’t forget to check out their last album, “Smashing Songs of Stage and Screen.”