|Looks like it's gonna be 6 more weeks of look-for-your-own-fucking-shadow (Image)|
Saturday, February 2nd, 2013
It’s here again. It’s that day where they drag me from my home and grope me in front of everyone.
I’m starting to forget what things were like before they captured me. For the first few years of my life I was a free groundhog. I spent my days scurrying about, munching on berries, alfalfa, and maybe the occasional grasshopper if I was feeling adventurous. That’s what us groundhogs do, we scurry. Sure, that’s kind of a gay way to travel, but it works for us. Besides, back in the day I used to pull so much hoary marmot tail that I got nicknamed the “Whistle-Pig.” I never understood why they called me that, but it’s neither here nor there. The take home message of this paragraph is that bitches love my scurryin’.