By Smaktakula
Stupid, Despised And Unfit To Live, Yet The Opossum Still Flourishes. The State Of Indiana Can Be Explained In Much The Same Way.
Spare a moment of thought, if you will, for that most wretched and despised of God’s creations, the opossum. Sometimes called simply a ‘possum,’ this primitive marsupial is most famous for its disgusting prehensile tail and its trick of playing dead when threatened. Opossums are also notable for having the smallest brain-to-body size ratio of all mammals. The combination of these factors ensures that the opossum is paramount among the world’s cowardly, hideous and stupid creatures.
Heidi The Cross-Eyed Possum Is A Celebrity In Germany, Whose People Are Justifiably Proud Of Their Reputation For Protecting Those Things Which Are Both Exotic And Defenseless.
No one advocates for the opossum, or regards it as anything other than filthy vermin. Washed-up, bloated celebrities won’t appear on late-night infomercials extolling the good works performed by the Opossum Relief Fund, while images of abused and neglected opossums play to sad music. Deranged old ladies never leave out bowls of milk for these skulking night-rats.
Despite All That’s Happened, Kirstie Alley’s Career Has Yet To Fall Below The ‘Possum Line.’ Sadly, The Same Cannot Be Said For Shelley Long.
Not usually eaten in first-world nations (we know you just can’t help yourselves, Mississippi), the opossum’s life is denied even that value accorded to a barnyard hen. Unlike say, a robin or starling, nobody ever has a life-changing moment after killing an opossum with a BB gun. Quite the opposite in fact; it’s not uncommon to hear possum-killing described with great satisfaction: “I’m glad I drowned that filthy creature in a trashcan filled with motor oil and lawn clippings.”
“Well, Aren’t You Just The Cutest Thing? Rusty–Get My Slingshot.”
I like the opossum, (says the most awkward guy in the room.)
You needn’t feel awkward. The fine folks of the Magnolia State are also quite fond of the creature, and they don’t even know what awkward means.
Obviously stupidity flourishes in all states. (from Proud to be a Mississippian)
Thanks for the comment, Mississippian. It’s nice to know that Magnolia-Staters can take a joke. Not like those jerks in Alabama!
God, Smak – I hate rats….these kinda remind me of rats. eeewww….the second one – little googly-eyed shit….
Domesticated rats make great pets. But if you live in a city (as I believe you do–the ‘Hood to be more exact), rats aren’t so much fun.
The ‘Google-Eyed’ beast is Heidi the Cross-Eyed possum, who died mysteriously in German hands.
If not for your posted images, I might never have seen an intact possum. I have, however, seen them in all states of flatness and decomposition, littering the road I live on.
Yeah, you said you lived on a busy street (where, as I recall, you endure the lascivious whistles of passing truckers).
I see Opossums all the time. Sometimes there’s a big nasty one waiting for me on the fence when I leave my office.
The possum is the only animal I’ve ever killed (accidentally–one got under my car and wouldn’t move even after I started it up–I figured ANYTHING would move at that point).
I guess what you say about their brain size is true.
Of course. But I can’t say I appreciate the implication that something posted on these pages might not be true.
LOOMA. (Remember what that acronym means?)
If I’m not mistaken, the acronym comes from the Lexicon d’Rubin Jr., and stands for Laughing Out Of My Anus. Am I correct? Shouldn’t that be ‘paenus?’
You are correct. As for paenus, he likes to reserve that for special occasions.
Right, you don’t just want to go whipping that out everywhere.
There is a local possum (I won’t credit it with it’s correct name) who keeps appearing at night, eating oranges from our tree, then leaving the peel everywhere. For some reason I want to bash in it’s head with a spade.
Having lived in the US now and seen how being black is still a bit of an issue in some quarters (which somewhat baffles me), presumably the possum is just experiencing what black people did in the not too distant past. Not the point about me wanting to bash heads in with a spade, I should add.
bash heads in with a spade, I should add.
Although in this instance specifically, ‘shovel’ might be the more sensitive term (the nuances of which may be lost on you depending on how long you’ve suffered on our shores!)
Possums are basically harmless insofar as I can tell, and in the back yard I don’t mind so much. One time my grandma got a possum in her kitchen. Cute little thing. I got him out of there with a broom and a trashcan lid. I felt like Conan the Barbarian!
Oh yes, I see your point about the use of the word spade. Thankfully you understood I meant shovel.
I was poking fun–I certainly knew what you meant. I find that people are much too sensitive about such things nowadays–and those offended are quite often NOT the people to whom the ostensible “offense” was directed.
This story speaks to that–when I was a young kid, I had a black cat named “Spook”–as in “Spooky.” I learned after naming the cat it was a racist term in some circles. But who do you imagine first pointed that out to me–the working-class black family two apartments over with whose kid I played or one of my mom’s college-educated, middle-class white friends?
Well yes, me too in the reply. – It’s funny really because anyone who is actually using their brain will put things in context and then decide if it is bad or not. Some people just like to play Mr Smarty pants but not apply some common sense.
Oh, so that’s why nobody bought the “Tickle Me Possum: Now With Diseased, Infectious Action!”
That comment was so awesome, there’s nothing I can add. Thanks!
And I realize that the name is A Very Strange Place, but for a second, I thought it was ‘Avery Strangeplace,” which is great name for a Bond Girl, no?
If “Avery Strangeplace” is a Bond Girl, then “Smaktakula” is a Bond Villain. Who enacts his plan with an army of mutant possums.
That is even more awesome than your last awesomeness. You see, I have always wished that I’d explored the field of super-villainy.
I am being completely serious when I tell you that among the photos on the small ‘wall of inspiration’ in my office is a picture of Ernst Stavro Blofeld stroking his pussy.
See, I’ve always wanted to be more of a Batman Villain. Problem is, almost nobody will sell me a freeze ray in the shape of a top hat. And while you have a Blofeld picture, I’ve got a picture of Mr. Freeze menacing my potted plant. Hell yeah!
Word. And you’re wise to pick one of the non-psycho villains. You get to fuck up the Caped Crusader, but you don’t have to eat human spleens or whatever.
And the Bond mention inspired me to repost an old gag.
As an opossum advocate, I’ve always thought the hyena the most wretched and despised of God’s
creations.
Well, you may have us there–but when you throw ‘stupid’ into the mix, the ‘possum ‘wins,’ paws down.
Does Smaktakula have an opinion as to the most blessed of God’s creations?
Smaktakula has an opinion on just about everything–even stuff he knows NOTHING about (and can’t stop talking in the third person).
Assuming I can’t list myself as most blessed creature, I’ve got to go with Maverick the Cat. I live in a little tourist/fishing town on the coast, and we have a lot of restaurants. At one such establishment, right on the bay, you’ll find Maverick the Cat. Maverick is a massive, gray tabby who lives at the restaurant (outside–it’s a clean place). Pretty much any time you go there, you can see Maverick’s bulk stretched out across the fence ledge, enjoying the sun. With no natural predators, a restaurant to keep vermin-free and all the table scraps he could want, Maverick lives the life.
Bob Dole… As one of God’s creations, you had the free will to list yourself, but I am glad you chose Maverick the Cat. I agree he’s living the life, and his life is one for all of us to emulate. Being more of a dog person, I would list the Lab, any Lab, as the most blessed. As Dylan crooned, “If dogs run free/then why not we….”
As Dylan crooned, “If dogs run free/then why not we….”
But he also said: “You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat/who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat.”
However, just as the song goes on to point out that he wasn’t ‘where it was at,’ I should note that I’m merely playing devil’s advocate. I’m more of a dog person as well.