Sarcastic Sam

do we really need to see this

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Mon, 5 Jan 2015 06:57:00 -0800

as a dyed in the wooly mammoth patriots fan for forty years, i have had to endure some pitiful moments.... my team was the worst! year after year, my team was the laughing stock of sports...

if your team was having a three game slump, you HOPED the patriots were on your schedule, you were guaranteed a win, and you looked forward to going to foxboro to play the worst team in the NFL...

we are (at least this ferret is) a blue collar fan... that is to say, every game is expected to be a loss.. that is just part of the psyche, i don't relish wins any more than i get disappointed by loss...

i don't get on my twitter and rant patriots wins, cheer, or brag... long time readers or followers will attest to that ~ you would never even know what team i support, since i have nothing to say in public about my team, they are a team, i am a fan, and that doesn't mean i should blast out every freaking victory like we just won the super bowl... as brady says: "well done is better than well said"... not a bad quote for a jock

so i come to this week's sporting spectacle, and we have to endure "DALLAS NATION" oh gosh... seriously?

must the dallas fans invade the internet and leave their mark on twitter and facebook and tell the world how great their team is?

can't they (obnoxious dallas fans) just accept that sports is often luck, and more often the entire spectacle can be attributed to a ref's call, or even a micro second of chance? why relish a win anymore than be depressed over a loss? it's a numbers game at best, and at worst, it's just a freaking game! football is entertainment...

if you are going to celebrate a win this weekend, why not cheer on the seven year old with the broken wrist, who lost her family in a plane crash, and still had the guts to walk to a house in the dark of night, and call 911.. that is a true triumph of the human spirit, a demonstration of the human condition, indeed, ferret worthy even

do the world a favor dallas fans, and when you want to talk trash online, and brag about your teams accomplishments, change your focus, and think of Sailor Gutzler.. she has no family, they are dead.... and yet you live...

the entire spectacle life is often just a matter of the Great Ref's call, or even a micro second of chance

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i tweet at @Samuel_Clemons and you can donate to the girl's fund at https://www.sailorgutzlerfund.com/

dystopian fiction and the reality of air

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Sun, 21 Dec 2014 14:17:00 -0800

i found dis bit of crafted narrative on "Wired" you know that political narrative crap, posing as a tech blog.....

Her new book, This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. The Climate, argues that only dramatic policy shifts can avert climate catastrophe, and that ordinary people need to speak up and demand emissions caps, public transportation, and a transition to renewable energy. That’s a hard sell politically, which is why dubious measures like geoengineering and cap-and-trade have been proposed instead. *excerpt from:

Dystopian Fiction’s Popularity Is a Warning Sign for the Future

so, bein' the ferret dat i am, i will translate the definitions of these terms out of the context of code speak, and into the realm of reality away from the crafted narrative.....

emissions caps: leave the U.S. in the vulnerable position of a service sector society that doesn't "make anything"

public transportation: spend hundreds of millions of dollars per mile so rich white people are guaranteed their maids can come clean their houses on time

renewable energy: any company that Al Gore owns stock in; after all, he did win the Nobel Prize for putting together a powerpoint presentation

~~~~~~~~~~

capitalism is here to stay... without it we'd all be riding donkeys down to the open air meat market, swatting flies and maggots off the goat meat folks...

i am not going to waste my life making myself miserable and ranting about the environment ~ you are welcome to take the adult approach here, and block me, and call me names...

Merry Christmas!!

the one who looks in your eyes

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Wed, 30 Apr 2014 16:37:00 -0700

the one who looks in your eyes and sees that you know exactly what they are thinking

the one who looks in your eyes and sees a powerful truth that you have captured every nuance of them ~ every vibe

the one who looks in your eyes and sees you as you are and still loves you

the one who looks in your eyes and sees a wonderful loving soul no matter what

that is the pet human, when it stares at me with those knowing eyes

Happiness is a Decision

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Sun, 13 Apr 2014 22:16:00 -0700

We have to Make a Decision to Be Happy... People search mountains, travel the Earth, look their entire lives for happiness. Only to determine that it is a decision ~ often which we must keep on making.

sociocultural anthropology

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Sun, 13 Apr 2014 21:18:00 -0700

my pet human thinks it knows social patterns defined over a convergence of technology with telephony useage; disrupting social patterned POS habits adjusting response to modern markets and triggers ~ however, i think that i can produce a conversion rate higher than usual using emotional triggers and scientific data to create cultural trends, accepted speech dialects, and non mainstream influences to develop sales word patterns.

Patterns have been established by non mainstream trends. A girl in Boston no longer trusts CNN or Dave Letterman. She turns to the Internet, and finds micro local content about BeanTown developed by Boston Producers and covering her neighborhood. She loves what she sees, she tunes back in.

just livin' right

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Sun, 10 Nov 2013 15:05:00 -0800

sometimes it just all works out, and the symbiotic connection is wonderful, maybe spiritual who knows it's all good ~ we make instant sense to each other ~ i ~ wiggle ~ for ~ these ~ moments

how to appoint a high level driveler

idn't it nice when the passin' out o' titles works so well?!! follow @scablander

i tweet at @Samuel_Clemons if you stop by for a spot o tea; leave your @twitterhandle in the comment section

Only to My Friends!

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Wed, 9 Oct 2013 14:29:00 -0700

IN RESPONSE TO ALL THE RECENT E-MAILS ABOUT OUR DOG:

PLEASE BE ADVISED, WE ARE SICK AND TIRED OF ANSWERING QUESTIONS ABOUT OUR DOG! YES, HE MAULED SIX PEOPLE WEARING OBAMA T-SHIRTS, FOUR PEOPLE WEARING PELOSI T-SHIRTS, NINE TEENAGERS WITH PANTS HANGING PAST THEIR CRACK, THREE FLAG BURNERS, AND A PAKISTANI TAXI DRIVER.

FOR THE LAST TIME ... THE DOG IS NOT FOR SALE!

NO, I DO NOT APPROVE OF HIS SMOKING, BUT HE SAYS IT HELPS GET THE 'BAD TASTE' OUT OF HIS MOUTH!

______________________

this has found it's way into my eMail, and has no Copyright, it is NOT of my making, i just figured everyone would like to see a smoking canine... woof woof

if you want to stop by for a spot o' tea, please leave your @TwitterHandle i am da Colonel, @samuel_clemons on twitter and SamLClemons on Facebook

a typical morning

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Thu, 5 Sep 2013 09:39:00 -0700

i wanted to give my one adoring fan a blog post, i likes to stick wif what works for me: useless drivel, complete nonsense, and good thorough time wasting roll fru da ether.... hopefully i have not disappointed you fan, whoever you are

before i begin, i have a problem: my squiggly key is broken, so i can't make wigglies on my twitter. yep. this is probably a sign of the apocalypse... just threw dat out there buy tin foil hats or something, tell em Sammy sent ya

today, i wanted you to get a snippet of my twitter timeline, an encapsulated look at what my existence has become, i get my morning massage, ask da pet human to bring me my slippers and tv remote, and settle in for morning reading, this is what I saw:

you're not supposed to laugh yet, i haven't typed anything,

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what is a "morning read" wiffout seein' my own tweets? doesn't everybody favorite their own stuff? just SOP 'round here
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i got all kinds of people, i don't exclude people just because they can't spell.... hey, i can't even reach da shift keys who am i to complain?
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this person seems to have one of those ongoing dialogues with themselves, you know the type, where you can't really get the gist, but sort of? i love the word Divergent, i have used it to sound intelligent on more than one badass occasion. bitches
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i don't listen to blogtalk radio, but i got a big gig coming up... i wonder how many people will actually tune into this guy, if he has at least one loyal fan, he's probably doing better than me
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now this one is cool... i like the word Tao..you know, the tao of wiggles, the tao of ferret cuteness - but Dao? i might have to pilfer dat word
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origins of the world, huh? i saw this and wondered if it was another crackpot theory by the world's leading astrophysicists, who ironically claim that: "it takes a great leap of faith to believe our theories of the origins of the Universe" yea, no kidding
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my deepest knowing? it is far too early to contemplate my deepest knowing, the pet human didn't bring da remote; now i'm gonna have to chew da buttons off to show my disgust...

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good morning from ferret burrow virginia, if ya stop by, leave your Twitter Handle in the comment, and bring yo deepest .... errrr bring some useless drivel

A Report from the Colonel

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Fri, 26 Jul 2013 08:02:00 -0700

It's been a while. Jan 1st, don't get all sentimental on me. Thought I'd bring you news from the front. As Master Pilferer, i rise from my naps, and snag your filet mignon, preferably lobster, and hide it under the sofa. i use diversionary tactics to keep you from looking there.

that was my ninja tip for the bi annual.

ciao my lovelies

Another Year Another Wiggle

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Tue, 1 Jan 2013 06:40:00 -0800

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

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Wed, 14 Nov 2012 22:15:00 -0800

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.

__________________________________________

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

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Fri, 7 Sep 2012 14:39:00 -0700

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.

___________________________________________

Take from Real Tweets, Sept 8th, 2012 Afternoon

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

Its the Alpaca Lips!

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Wed, 4 Jul 2012 09:57:00 -0700

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.

----------------------------------------------------

if you leave a comment, pls leave your TWITTER handle

i tweet at @Samuel_Clemons

he's ruined

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Thu, 24 May 2012 08:22:00 -0700

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
________________________________________________________

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

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Fri, 18 May 2012 19:26:00 -0700

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

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 07:42:00 -0700

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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follow sam on twitter http://twitter.com/samuel_clemons

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

If you leave a comment, pls leave your @ Twitter Handle in the Comment Box.

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

the pre facebook dump text dump

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Sun, 15 Apr 2012 15:49:00 -0700

“Sam is inconsolable. I'm leaving him with you” said the pet human. “he has been moping around da house, he won't write. He's watched cartoon planet on the sofa for 24 hours straight, and the cat called him a freak” I was unceremoniously disposed of at the therapist's office. I think the pet human made a dash for the car just a little too delighted by the prospect of getting rid of me. I detected a bit of skip there.

“Come on Sam” she said, “You can't just lay there, you have to say something. Talk to me”

“You are the last person I want to talk to” I said.

“Now, Sammy. That wasn't nice”

Defensively, like any good therapy patient, I said, “You're not supposed to attack me, I'm vulnerable. What do I pay you for, anyway?”

“You haven't paid me in months!” she said “Now come on, tell me what's wrong”

So I launched into my story:

“Well, I started an imaginary business on my blog. I offer to be a fake boyfriend on Facebook. You know, go on people's Facebook, and flirt, and make pet humans jealous. I even found a bossomy woman, wif big a bosom who had a ferret in her bosom and posted that on the faux business ad to drum up faux customers”

did i say bosom?

“You offered a... You did this? Ha! That's funny. So creative..... Eeerrrr, well, And how's that working out?” she prompted me. (link to faux business ad: http://samuelclemons.blogspot.com/2011_03_01_archive.html )

“Well, nobody actually took me up on it. It was mostly a satirical thing. I was making fun of a service, I did get one gal who wanted to put me down as her “In a relationship With” status.. you know, just as a joke

“I didn't mind, it was just a way to poke fun at some other outfit, so I said sure. Her name was Alice....

“And then the other day, I got a Text: 'Dear Sam, I am getting questions from pet human clients about dating a... well.. I have to take you off my Facebook status'

“And I didn't really think anything of it. I hadn't exactly kept my end of the bargain. I didn't go on Facebook and make any of her friends jealous, I didn't post any sexy ferret one liners....I didn't say 'hey baby, wanna wiggle' or anything juicy. Besides, I think her clients may have questioned her sanity. So at first I was O.K.

“Until that dreadful moment when I heard the Verizon Commercial. You know the one? Where the gal says: 'Any second now, she's gonna learn her boyfriend has changed his relationship status, wait for it, 3, 2, 1 ….and then the girl shrieks!!!!!!

“That really hit me. Maybe Alice was embarassed to be seen wif a ferret? Maybe I really cost her clients, they think she's a nut and I'm a loser? Maybe I'm not good enough? Maybe I will cause the very fabric of the Universe to be rent asunder, and worlds will collide!!! But, but, what hit me? I realised I'd been dumped... or was gonna be dumped. I've never been dumped. And even if I were to be dumped, I'd never gotten a text beforehand that I might be dumped.

"I got the Pre Dump Explanation Text Dump Prior to being Facebook Relationship Status Changed Dump ...it's been terrible, I can't write, the cat and dog want me to leave and find my own apartment, I haven't had a bath in what, like 12 hours? and now I have to come here and talk to you, and miss all my Scooby Doo episodes” I finished with that. I figured i'd put the self pity trip on the therapist for good measure.

She said: “OK. Let me get this straight. You had a fake service.....”

“Satirical... or faux” I interrupted her.

She continued: “You had a faux service you never had any intention of really offering, that you used as a literary device. A friend of yours and you thought it would be funny to post each other as “In a Relationship With” on Facebook, but really were not in a relationship. So you had a faux relationship with a faux girlfriend, to discontinue this errr. faux status, she texted you ahead of time, and even told you this, so as not to surprise you, which is more than most people would do for a real relationship, even though it never existed in the first place? Is that what you are telling me? And now you are upset over this, and watching Scooby Doo for 24 hours straight, and driving the Pet Human and the Cat crazy, and you think this is normal Sam?”

“Well when you put it that way, I guess it's not all that bad. I haven't gone onto Facebook. For all I know, Alice hasn't even changed her status. Thanks for listening.”

I skipped out, once again without paying her.

________________________________________________

pls leave your twitter handle in the body of the comment, if you so chose to leave a comment

follow my faux girlfriend on Twitter: http://twitter.com/AliceMartin8

http://www.indiegogo.com/TheFerretSquad

how shopping got me into family counseling

fake girlfriend troubles

Where DO these rumors start?

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Mon, 9 Apr 2012 06:44:00 -0700

i've been accused of being a narcissist on occasion. i'm working on dat. i can't help it everyone wuvs me. since the entire Universe revolves around me, it's hard to argue with the facts.

i've been accused of being a slacker, that one is also probably true. the more the editors and publishers call for my work, the more i hang up on them, and laugh. they're drunks and perverts, ask them.

all kinds of rumors swell to a raging inferno, and i don't do anything to dispel them, "is Sam insane?" "does he really have twin masseuses" "does he actually drink blueberry juice" - ha! let the world wonder

there was that rumor, properly expounded upon herein where i wuz supposedly the father of one "Sam da Ferret" where i posted the dubious birth certificate.

but this latest rumor is sleazy, maybe it's even ruinous, detrimental to my reputation. so i have taken the time today to actually address this rumor, face it head-on, and not let it fester....

it started with a facebook posting of a hedgehog (name withheld to protect the unbearably cute from rabid packs of wild fans)

and oh yea, it's on baby! i'm calling out the guilty party on this one. i know those rumor mongers like to practice their nefarious arts in secret, whisper campaigns after all don't work well when the whisperer is exposed. wild rumors cloak themselves clandestinely. i am obligated therefore to let this one out da bag.

it was Laura Fisher @baisebeige she blatantly started the rumor that i am into eating hedgehogs....

DON'T FAINT!! don't pass out. please, maintain your composure here, we run a decent, family oriented blog. some righteous indignation is probably ok, but don't write your congressperson just yet. i can defend myself, and i will.

you might remember Laura from the post i wrote "It's the Small Pleasures" in which i let Laura get the last word on a complete bit of insanity (note, most of my posts involve full blown insanity, dysfunctional relatives, or missing socks, so if you were hoping it was going to get better, it doesn't)

Laura posted the hedgehog pic on her facebook, and then dragged me through the toilet bowl, and all the ensuing vortex of rumors that might swell around such flushing, to wit: It also says owls and FERRETS are natural predators! Samuel Clemons Please, oh please, tell me it ain't true!

such guile, such manipulation, Laura. i know your kind. you hide behind the caveat of rationalisation, i know. "tell me it ain't true" ha! so you've forced me to defend myself. i have to write a blog post now, just to maintain my own righteous indignation, one of the many indulgences that will most likely cause me to call my therapist.

let me set the record straight. wild ferrets such as the Roaming Gypsy Hippy Black Footed Ferrets who practice the Way of the Great Pop Tart, yes they eat prairie dogs. (when visiting, i prefer mine wif mustard) ....OK, I SAID IT!! they eat prairie dogs. cute eats cute out there in the wild west. hey, i've heard of worse.

Ferrets are Carnivores

ferrets are carnivores ok! but some of us are cultured, refined, above the mere lusts and cravings of mortal critters. i for one come from a great line of ratters. we chased rats, and if we cornered them, we'd eat them. but i don't chase rats. i've sought treatment for my problems, i've attended a 12 step program, i admit i HAD a problem, but i've overcome the rat addiction.

is it demeaning to defend myself? maybe. but here goes: i have become a reformed ferret. i have made friends wif da mice. on cold nights harold stumbles across the living room, and in his cups, can't find his way home. harold often makes his way to my hammock, and curls up. he doesn't feel threatened, and i don't even want to eat Harold. we've become buddies.

Harold Sometimes Drinks Too Much

as to the nasty rumors that i eat hedgehogs? well, i hope i have defended myself, nay, acquitted myself.

and if anyone sees dat Laura around, pls tell her that i am a civilised ferret

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if you leave a comment, pls leave your Twitter handle

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He Panicked

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Tue, 3 Apr 2012 06:44:00 -0700

"sammy, i did it, i pressed the panic button"

"panic button? that is a literary device or verbal expression, Uncle Freddie. it doesn't really exist."

"oh, yes it does. they are real"

"i'm just having my coffee, Fred, come on!" i whined, "hazelnut, wif a touch o' cinnamon. can you call me back later?"

"I AM TELLING YOU THERE IS A REAL PANIC BUTTON!!" he yelled into the phone. "hold one sec, Sammy, my boy, the cops are here"

i heard an authoritarian voice in the background, "we would have gotten here sooner, but my partner had to finish his coffee... vanilla bean with a couple shots of caramel. what seems to be the problem?" apparently, Uncle Freddie didn't bother to cover the mouthpiece of his iPhone

"i was on my way to the Corcoran. i'm meeting a lady there, and i forgot to stop and get a morning sip o' coffee" said Uncle Freddie.

Corcoran DC No Art Had Coffee Spilled on it in the writing of this blog

"you pressed the Panic Button for this?" said the Policeman, "we were busy, ah...we were on an assignment..." he backtracked "are you a tourist?"

"tourist? i own dis town!" Uncle Freddie indignantly declared

"Sir, the Taxi Panic Button is NOT, i repeat NOT for us to deliver your coffee!" said the cop, pausing, then, "hey Larry, this guy pressed the panic button because he wanted coffee" apparently talking to his partner.

in the background, "i don't blame him" the voice approached "what flavor do you fancy, sir?" now this new voice entered the fray

"chocolate mocha, wif whipped, and a just a pinch o' sugar, my vice of course" said Freddie

Larry, the partner could be heard to say "mmmm, that sounds delish. i'll have to try that"

"Uncle Freddie, there is a panic button in the Cab? this wasn't a joke?"

"no, Sammy. it took the cops a while to show up, but at least it works. i wanted to be one of the first to test it. i love this" said Freddie (article)

"well, try to keep your alerts for the cops, and don't bother me with the details, please?" i said.

finally speaking up, the cabby, broke in with: "what do i do?" supplicating to the cops for advice, directions, or permission to proceed

i heard the first cop ask the cabby, before i hung up: "what kind of coffee do you drink?"

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nutjobs freaks and weirdos

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Sat, 24 Mar 2012 09:06:00 -0700

i was gonna purge my account of: nutjobs, whackjobs, freaks, weirdos, kinky types, dysfunctionals, degenerates, perverts, hippies, drunks, addicts, self absorbed, isolators, morons, OCD, shameless self promoters, delusionals, callous, bigmouthed, absentminded, arrogant, egotistical, fanatic, finicky, humorless, masochistic, sadistic, paranoid, the self righteous, skeptics, weak willed, zealous, troublemakers, stubborn, megalomaniacs, those fixated, gruff, disturbed, erratic, hoity-toity, overt, arrogant, needy, clingy, gullible, disturbed, and any squirrels.....

but they'd all just find me again, wouldn't they?

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(from a facebook post)

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dedicated to JonesBabie http://www.facebook.com/cathy.tittle who thought she'd teach a ferret how to spell skeptic. on facebook i took advantage of the british spelling, herein, to please the american audience, i have availed myself of their usage

i believe in Santa, fairies, magic wizards and Bigfoot

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Tue, 20 Mar 2012 18:47:00 -0700

i believe in Santa, fairies, magic wizards, and Bigfoot …
i believe in the Decency and Dignity the Universe has bestowed on all of us
i believe we all have the courage to be happy in the face of adversity
~
i believe in my own magic, that i can inspire others to dream big
i believe that laughter heals most everything, takes the sting out of the evils of this world
i believe in everyone - even da cat who swats at me sometimes
~
i believe in the Great Pop Tart and he knows i mean well
i believe in forgiveness, redemption, and renewal
i believe in kindness, generosity, and love

i can lose all or give everything away, and i would firmly believe i am still blessed

Sam, Spring 2012

no way sweetheart

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Fri, 16 Mar 2012 07:06:00 -0700

i was in one of my moods. under no circumstances was i going to entertain the pet humans for cheap what-nots and snuggles. no way sweetheart, find someone else to make your day.

i took the pet human to the mall first, and didn't ~wiggle~ and then to the office supply joint to pick up some paper. any self respecting swashbuckling pirate wizard writer ferret needs a few reams of paper. no snuggles there, too stuffy, too business like for my sullen attitude. nope, wasn't gonna' do it

rolling my eyes, we pulled into the grocer. "i am doing as the therapist suggests sammy, and i am not buying anything but eggs and bread today"

i might as well have been left in the car. if i can't buy what i want, why bring me? doesn't the world revolve around me?

"OH MY GOODNESS IT'S SAM!!" the high pitched voice was shocking on the best of days, today it was an instant assault upon my lil 'ol skullbones.... she tried to entice me wif a plastic pack of something or other.

the pet human said, "sammy's not himself"

"oh, really?" as she gave me a cheek pinch.

the grocery manager came over, with a shiny wrapper. "here sammy, your favorite"

i gave a tiny ~wiggle~ only by the hardest

"IT'S THE MOST FAMOUS FERRET ON THE PLANET!!!" another clerk, who slobbered me wif a kiss

i gave two ~wiggles~

then a spinny move as i jumped on the pet human's shoulder. a remarkable effort, as it involved the physical combined wif da spiritual - impressing all of the humans with my gymnast's skills - they all smiled and laughed as i made their collective day. i was back to my normal self

proving once again, that happiness is a choice we must keep on making, over and over, moment by moment

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The Heart of a Champion

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Fri, 9 Mar 2012 07:24:00 -0800

Victor galloped a thousand strides, stopping only occasionally to let out a low, echoing bark, and trotting onward. Finally stopping on the edge of a wide hollow, looking down at the stream, across to the other side, his view was fantastic. Surveying the panorama was one of his greatest joys, some serenity found in casting his sniffs over nature's scene.

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"don't move, i've almost got it" i told BigFoot, i was on his shoulder changing the lightbulb.

"i could do it, Sam, if i am really gentle, by myself. there seem to be a few scones missing from the kitchen"

"really? i have just taken them out of the oven, Squatch"

"it wasn't me, it was Victor" lied Marvin, his tongue wiping his lips back and forth giving away not only the offender, but also a tall tale teller all at once.

"Victor, huh?" said Squatch. "Sam, someone's coming up the drive. It sounds like the Sheriff"

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The Giant Mastiff swung around, heading back to the Colonel's Dale. With a relaxed gait, Victor could hear a step, sense a presence ahead of him. He smelled Marvin, and detected a noise in the woods, as if he were struggling.
As Victor found him, Marvin was scratched about the ears from wriggling thru thistles, panting from his long run, no match at all for Victor.

"And what are you doing out here?" asked Victor. "You are a mess, Marvin. You look like the woods have gotten the better of ya!"

"I wanted to follow you, Victor, to be like you...to see where you go all by yourself" said lil Marv, as Victor licked the tiny dog's wounds, and smiled, just a bit.

"Well, you're lucky I found you, and one day, we'll go to my special spot, when there's more time. For now, I hate to disappoint you, Marvin, but I am already headed home."

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Size 24 and I peered through the curtains. it wasn't the Sheriff, instead, it was deputy Rollins, his simpleton sidekick. "Looks like we'll have to put on some tea, Squatch"

As the car door (s) slammed shut outside, i immediately knew there was another person, and the "Oh this is really a beautiful place, Mr. Rollins" sang out, a woman's voice! Squatch and I went wide eyed. "You sit on the sofa, and just be normal. Don't do anything weird". He was petrified.

My door is always flung wide, so we heard the footsteps approach, which sent Size 24 to the sofa. His legs sprawled into the middle of the room. "Sam, I brought you a visitor from town. Knock knock" said Rollins.

As the tall lean Deputy entered, followed by a college aged woman, dressed in jeans, and printed silk shirt, she let out a rather shocked: "OH MY GOD! What is that?"

"What is what?" I replied.

Pointing at Bigfoot, "That?"

Me: "Oh, that's just Bob. And whom might you be?"

"B..Bob?" she stammered, gathering her wits, "I am.. " i knew, when confronted with the impossibly implausible, we must dare the adversary to accept the improbable.

"I'm Sarah. The Deputy offered to show me where you lived" she managed.

Rollins grinned big, the hero of the day.

"Well, Sarah you found me! Let's go into the kitchen, shall we?" she had to step over piles of books and manuscripts scattered about.

As we crossed the entryway, 'Bob' skedaddled out of the burrow, and into the woods, silently and stealthy.

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Marvin, slowed Victor as they made their way back to the Dale. Marvin's little strides just wore him out, the scratches started to close up, making it painful to walk at all. Victor stopped numerous times, patiently, and finally just scooped Marvin up in his giant jaws, and carried him oh so ingloriously, most of the way back.

"Put me down, please" squeaked the younger of the two. "Victor, I want to explain...." Marvin wanted to confess about some missing scones.

"Now, now, Marvin, my dear boy. You don't worry yourself about any of this." As he fluffed up the beagle, and licked at his ears and legs a bit, to get the blood circulating again.

Marvin: "I wanted to tell you about......"

Victor: "No. Not now, Marvin, we are going to walk into that dale, and yard, and I'm going to let you lead the way, OK? So let's go"

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Sarah, Rollins and I after pouring tea, walked into the living room, and she asked, "Where's Bob?"

"Bob who?"

Just as a long howl was heard not far off, and a mighty bark together, two returning hounds.

The three of us watched from the stoop, as two figures emerged from the woods, and entered the dale. A huge dog by any standard, Victor inexplicably was behind the scratched up beat up, worn out Marvin, both heads proudly held high, the Mastiff's as ever, the Beagle's from sheer determination.

"The little one seems to have been through a war" said Sarah.

As they approached, I asked Victor, "So how are things, Vic? How'd you find that little rascal? How is he?"

Marvin fairly beamed as Victor said: "He is a true champion, Sam. A true champion"

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ever wondered how I found Bigfoot? : http://samuelclemons.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-found-bigfoot.html

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Ami loved Victor so much, I thought I'd recount this story for her, follow her on Twitter at http://twitter.com/museinks

Unleash The Hounds!

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 20:46:00 -0800

We couldn't believe our luck. Big Foot, Harriet and I had finally rounded up the dogs and begged them to stop running. All day we'd been forging through the woods, behind the dogs, who'd gotten the scent of a deer, then a rabbit, the occasional squirrel.

Out of breath, streaked with sweat, even Big Foot was panting. The dogs were laying down, napping in a state of weariness, finally they'd worn themselves out.

I wanted to get back to the cottage, the hole in the hill, Colonel's Dale. I was riding Harriet, and from my vantage point, I called out to Victor, the chief Mastiff: “Vic, are you satisfied, have you had your fun?”

Victor

“Oh Sam, it was glorious, did you see? We have had a wonderful day!” They didn't catch anything, or track anything down, all they'd done was chase animals they'd never find.

“I saw, Victor. Now which way is the Dale?”

Victor looked around, back and forth, sniffed the air in an oh so serious manner and promptly fell asleep.

Never one to miss a nap, I curled up on Harriet's forehead, between her ears.

The lot of us had gathered our second wind as evening came, with Victor walking out in front, the rest of his pack looking to stretch their strides again, yet loyal to the pack, limited by their instinct to follow their leader. We came up to the Dale, and then the cottage, Victor pacing us. He'd found my cottage after all, a pleasantness began to settle over me, a cup of tea beckoned from within.

Big Foot went off into the woods, Harriet made her way into the Barn, I heard the familiar voice of Uncle Freddie, as if he'd had a cocktail or two.

Stumbling through the stoop, he shouted, a bit too loud: “Good to see ya, Sammy!!” Victor and the pack made their way in to the cottage, dogs akimbo, sprawling on my sofas, leather chairs, everywhere were floppy ears, and stretched limbs. All of them made themselves quite at home, proud of their day's achievements, comfortable.

Wiggling to the kitchen, I put on the tea kettle, and pulled a tin of blueberry scones. I was thinking of a couple of tweets I could send out about this day's adventures. So nice to be home after wandering the woods.

An ear splitting sound rocked my bliss. Uncle Freddie was blasting the hunting horn, a gift from the Roving Black Footed Ferrets of the Prairie. Of a sudden motion, every single dog started barking and howling, and carrying on. Leading the noise was Victor, that beast!!

What a noise, Uncle Freddie blasting the horn, the dogs, all on their feet, noses lifted ceilingward as they barked, howled, and raised the roof.

“Unleash the Hounds!!!!!!!!!” Uncle Freddie cried at the top of his lungs, a throwback to a mid-evil world as if he were the chief huntsman. Freddie flung open the door, raising his glass all a flourish, and yelled again: “UNLEASH THE HOUNDS!!!!!! and out they went, the youngest pup, Marvin, who after spinning his paws on the entry way, thought better of it all, and decided home is where the blueberry scones are. Off the rest leaped, into the woods, into the dark of night, on a mission they knew not where. It'd be hours before they realised they didn't even know what they were chasing.

Marvin Aint No Fool

“Size 24, Harriet and I spent all day chasing those dogs.”

To which Uncle Freddie tipsily replied, “I needed a place to sit”

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The Biggest News of the Day

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel_Clemons) — Wed, 8 Feb 2012 13:28:00 -0800

Geraldo Moustache Rivera was once a fine attorney. He sat in his office listening to the police scanner, and raced to the scene of automobile accidents. Very opportunistic. Having tried his luck at being a shyster he went into Journalism. Then TV. Then he wrote a tell all book where he confessed to having sex with anything that moved. Quite a career. So I have learned that one has to be pretty fast getting to the good stories before the attorney/journalists.

So it is wif my Twitter Attorney, @PiperBayard who is now a professional belly dancer, blogger, and story chaser. One time I was gonna do a story on the lost pygmies of Borneo - I get to Borneo, she's in the jungle teaching them how to surf the Internet. Then I was gonna send my Uncle Freddie to Sweden to do a story on hot new massage techniques... He get's off the plane, and to his first appointment: There's @PiperBayard soaking in the hot tub!!

So it goes in the rough and tumble world of the sleuth. We eat our own young if we have to. Let alone our attorney. (Officially, I don't think they are edible) Her headline today? Marriage Proposals and Bass Boats. http://piperbayard.wordpress.com/2012/02/08/marriage-proposals-and-bass-boats-the-love-doctors/ I mean, how was I to compete wif dat???? So I went out and scoured the entire Internet. Searched 54 Billion pages, did a quick speed read, and found a couple of hot topics.

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Absolutely Shocking!! hard to fathom the depravity of some pet humans!!

no, they are not streaking across golf courses, no they are not TIVOing American Idol, no, even worse!! 19,000 have “Liked” a Facebook page of In Bread Cats!!!

IN BREAD CATS ARE HOT ON THE INTERNET

See: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Putting-bread-on-your-cat-so-that-people-think-you-have-a-walking-sandwich/122798484485807

And their Counterpart, which only has 20 “Likes” STOP INBREAD CATS http://www.facebook.com/pages/Stop-inbread-cats/279411745404122 has some catching up to do.

It is interesting to note that "STOP INBREAD CATS" A. Is not very popular and B. Has absolutely no problem using a cat in a piece of bread on his Facebook.

And of course, we can't be too high brow here, so a little story that is more mainstream:

MAN SAYS RETRIEVER STRANGLED HIS WIFE

http://thestir.cafemom.com/in_the_news/131634/despicable_man_claims_dog_strangled?utm_medium=sem2&utm_campaign=outbrain&utm_source=outbrain&utm_content=outbrain&quick_picks=1

yea, blame the lovely dog. The author of that story is right. This guy should get extra time, just for saying the doggy did it.

I also beat @PiperBayard on this one:

MAN ESCAPES ZOMBIES BUT NOT THE COPS

(Reuters) - South African police have arrested a suspected fraudster for impersonating the award-winning traditional singer Khulekani Kwakhe "Mgqumeni" Khumalo, who died in 2009.
The unnamed man, who appeared in court in the eastern KwaZulu-Natal province on Tuesday, had said he had not died but was kidnapped by a witchdoctor who cast a spell on him and imprisoned him in a cave with zombies, local media reported.
Thousands of people in Khumalo's rural eastern home village of Esiggumeni, turned out to see the man at the weekend. Riot police with truncheons and water cannons were deployed to keep the crowd under control.
"I have always been alive," he was quoted as telling the crowd by the Independent Online news site. "I have lost a lot of weight but it is me."
Police said the suspect's fingerprints do not match those of the famed singer. The man also does not have the same scars on his face as Khumalo had.
"Detectives conducting the enquiry were convinced that the matter required criminal investigation," police said in a statement. (Ed Note: chuckle, chuckle)

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p.s. also, so you don't think you can outwit her. I once asked PiperBayard: "Have you lived in Colorado all your life?" she replied: "Not Yet"