|I wish I wrote this
||[Apr. 4th, 2006|08:05 am]
Somewhere in Antigua
The way she talks, you’d think she was bulletproof.|
The way she walks in the rain, you’d think she was waterproof.
All her plans are foolproof, and her blood is 80 proof.
She’s so cool she thinks she’s safetight from everything;
I mean, her kind of cool isn’t even a theory,
it’s a mathematical proof.
And there’s just one thing she never counted on.
…And I know I’m supposed to say “me” or “love”
But believe me, she’s totally loveproof
And she won’t let me within a hundred yards of her.
No, the only element she isn’t counting on
Squirrels are Nature’s agents of entropy.
As any birdwatcher knows, there has not yet been
a birdfeeder invented that is squirrel-proof.
You know why? Because nothing is squirrel-proof.
Least of all yourselves.
Squirrels are what the Earth uses when it wants something dismantled, outwitted or cheated.
If you put a peanut in the carburetor of a ‘76 Chevy Impala
and close the hood, squirrels will get it.
You will have engine parts strewn over the driveway
and the squirrels will be so greasy they’ll be falling out of trees for days,
but they’ll get that fucking peanut.
If you put a peanut in the barrel of army-issue automatic rifle,
squirrels will disassemble it to its compenent parts in 30 seconds.
I mean, these are some Forrest Gump fuckin’ squirrels, man.
If you leave out a box of crackerjack,
squirrels will take out the prize but leave the peanuts
because those things are nasty.
but they’ll use the decoder ring to crack your safe
and buy some peanuts.
If you put a peanut in a Rubik’s cube, a squirrel
won’t solve the Rubik’s cube,
but he’ll sure as hell take the thing apart, eat the peanut,
and put it back together like he had solved it,
because squirrels are lateral thinkers
who aren’t afraid to color outside the lines.
Like Hampshire students. Lying, cheating Hampshire students.
If you put a peanut in your pants, that squirrel will get
in your pants faster than an Australian backpacker
on Spanish fly. If you put a peanut in your brassiere,
a squirrel can acutally unhook your bra with one paw,
without looking, first try. Squirrels are very nimble animals.
Squirrels are geniuses of destruction.
Bomb squads should keep a squirrel around
so they can put a peanut in the wires
and watch the squirrel diffuse the bomb with seconds to spare.
If there are peanuts involved,
a squirrel will deconstruct James Joyce’s “Ulysses”
in a thousand words or less.
This is why squirrels are better than Cliff’s Notes.
And another helpful hint: if you ever have trouble
opening a peanut butter jar, leave it outside for 10 seconds.
But that trick can backfire: One morning I went to the medicine cabinet
and found a squirrel “robotripping” on my Dayquil bottle
and I was like “how did you get past the childproof cap?”
and he was like, “Yo, I’m a squirrel.
And by the way, I hacked your password last night.
Welcome to the Nut of the Month Club.”
And not only do squirrels rule the surface of the earth,
but now I hear there are even flying squirrels.
DEAR SWEET GOD, THEY’VE INVENTED SQUIRRELS WITH WINGS.
Suddenly I know why they don’t serve peanuts on airplanes anymore.
It’s a matter of national security.
I tell you this because I want to make something clear.
Nature will always win.
You think you're beautiful now, but the sun will bring you down
and worms will deconstruct you like a Ferrari at a chopshop.
Termites will haunt your house, and viruses
will make your T-cells vote Republican.
It’s entropy. We are all diminishing in carbon half-lives,
and squirrels are the six arms of the goddess of destruction.
So to the girl who is too cool for everything,
who wouldn’t let me within a hundred yards of her
and her indestructible, slippery aura, a curse:
May you be eating peanuts in the park
at the wrong time, and under the wrong tree.”