One Whipped Mother

John Shirley Drove Me to Drink

In case you didn’t know, I’m sickened by the sight of hyenas (and most of you don’t, so
here is some proof that I‘m not just pulling this hyena phobia out of my ass -- note meme question “Which Animal Frightens You Most?”). You are also probably not aware that their high-pitched fairy tale witch, serial killer cackle-giggles send me into severe epileptic seizure, that the mere mention of hyenas fills me with such deep revulsion and dread, I have been known to pull great gobs of hair from my skull while twirling in place. So please, if we were to meet some sunny day, I ask you not to breathe even a syllable of that word in my presence, because soon as “hy” slips from your lip, you would be witness to one of the most shocking displays of insanity ever performed by mortal human.

Hyenas are vicious, bloodthirsty thieves; they will eat carrion and your children alike. Hyenas not only despise you, other species of animal, cleanliness and honor, they despise themselves. Truly, a despicable creature. They are the devil’s playthings, hyenas. Satan watches hyena porn and pleasures himself to their dastardly deeds, their hairless, twitching backsides as they skitter across the Serengeti, leaving devastation and misery in their foul wake.

In short, I hate hyenas.

Which is why this caused me to crack open a bottle of Absolut immediately after reading it. My God, I thought to myself as I mixed my second screwdriver, My God. My God, My God, My God.

Then, upon finishing my third, I said this, really, really loudly, unmindful of Lar‘s quizzical stare: “Thank you, Lord, for giving me genitalia that comfortably, nay willingly, accommodate penises of any shape and size. Amen.”

posted by Ms. Lori @ 8:50 AM