Rioting is not yet called for...

Election 2016 update - Special Urgent Message from Squirrel 11NOV2016 -  "I have no intentions of conceding nor accepting the office of president of the united states until all ballots are counted, and they aren't, yet counted...the ballots that is. Hail to the chief. Is it noon yet?"

Vote for Squirrel!

It's your only sane choice.

"Hey, what about Sergeant Squirrel?"

jimmy, you are really freaking me out.  We don't agree on much, but I am all in on this one.  Ghosts. Yes, I've seen them and it's time to get rid of 'em.  Last year, at just this time of year, a cowboy was walking up my driveway and then vanished into thin air.  A spirit bending from light into dark. Gone. A freakin' COWBOY.  What the hell is that?  Anyway, that is far from my only brush with the infernal netherworlds, that is just all I care to write about right now; but let me tell you this - I've noticed a fat-buttload of freaky supernatural stuff happens around Easter.  Nothing weird ever goes down on Halloween; I think Halloween is just more government slight-of-hand to amuse the masses and throw us off of the real paranormal circus/freak-show around the Ascension date. Thanks for reminding me jimmy. I am fed up. This Good Friday/Easter/Passover weekend, I am setting up my weatherproof, battery operated, motion-actived, night-vision, nanny-recording-spycam (don't ask, and it's not creepy or illegal (in Cambodia)) and I will use it to catch any phantasms, poltergeists, specters, apparitions, etc. and/or related general funny business - in the act.  I'll set the sensitivity to "very".  I'll report back with any photos after the weekend.  Stay tuned.  This has to work.  Step one, I.D. the "perps".  I'm on it.  Begone Spooks!  Underworld demons, slack-jawed trolls and ogres, you messed with the wrong rodent.  This Squirrel is gonna ride your asses straight into the jaws of hell!  Like Major Kong riding the bomb in "Dr. Strangelove" - Aaahooooo! 

shhhh

It isn't news, but jimmy embarrassed himself again - Re: Smooch.  jimmys lips are more like heaven's butthole than a dewdrop.  I cannot be bothered by jimmy any longer.  I have been spending quite a bit of time meditating and expressing my qi energy through Reiki healing (I have a certificate).  I am a pretty bad-ass healer now; but more important than healing others, I am personally breaking through to a new, higher level of metaphysical understanding.  From this new perspective, it is very clear to me that the rest of you are even less important than I had previously guessed.  hmm. om.
So, why am i blogging, you should ask.  I will most likely merge into a higher plane, leaving no earthly trace.  And it will probably happen soon, again, it just seems likely.  So, in what-remains-of the meantime, if you send me $20 and an extremely brief explanation of your malady, I will Reiki heal you of anything.  Hurry, I am about to be assimilated.

Nightmare on Poop Street...Number Two

The recent snowmelt has revealed another demonic dropping in my yard.  jimmy waxes on in his typical vainglorious, self-obsessed, pitiful, style-less style, regarding his snow pile...while, as usual, I have real problems with piles in the snow.  What is this?  It cannot be of, or from, goodness. This is evil, come from evil.  I am posting this so you, my beloved fans, will know that if any woe, malaise, or infirmity befalls me, there was something brewing in the dark cauldron of sorcery that is jimmy. Hoodoo voodoo witchery I tell you.  Well, curse you right back jimmy. A squirrel's pox be upon you jimmy.  And keep your crap-happy dog out of my yard.

nightmare on poop street...or, living next to jimmy, welcome to the neighborhood

Unfortunately, I have seen more than my fair share of varied-species turds in my time on this planet, and this is THE most frightening poop I have ever encountered. jimmy's dog left it on my freshly shoveled deck. Last night, she (jimmy's hellhound) glared at me, with her fire-red devil eyes reflecting my porch light, while she dropped it.  It is certainly satanic, possibly apocalyptic, definitely unneighborly.  I'm scared. You might consider seeking peace with your God too.

here we go again, can't I even go out for groceries without being subjected to speciesism?

People...again, if you don't brake for a squirrel, any squirrel, you are a homicidal manic and potentially a murderer.  So, congratulations on your grand moral declaration that you choose not to attempt murder. You are so happy with, and proud of, yourself that you drive around with this displayed as if...I can't continue with this post.  I'm too disgusted.  Hopeless.

i am in therapy for my issues, but that's doesn't mean they aren't real

Happy Valentines Day, nimrods.  And I don't mean nimrods, as defined as, mighty hunters; and I wouldn't have to explain that if you weren't nimrods.  My therapist says that I love you all, I just don't know how to deal with that emotion, so I suppress it and then redirect the suppressed and confused emotion as venomous anger.  I explain this so that I have a documented and published mental illness alibi as I take careful aim, with my crap cannon, at jimmy's stupid dog...EAT CRAP YOU FOUR-LEGGED SATAN'S LAPDOG...literally. Boom.

you could probably call this a rant, but you probably don't know this from your arse

In marketing and advertising circles, a lot is made of children's limitless imagination, and I just don't believe it.  Children are just as dim as their parents.  The children simply lack enough real world experience to cement prejudice.  That is their only gift.  I want my crap cannon.  Jerks.

wishlist

I wish I had a crap cannon.

Garage Door Metaphor - Squirrelstyle

I do like to leave my garage door open.
I do like to wear tight shorts.
Both for the same reason.
Why not give everyone a peek at the junk?

say no, jimmy

I just want to stay out of the limelight, but jimmy is up to his old tricks.  welcome 2015, apparently the year of more jimmy BS.  jimmy blathers on about "always" and "forever".  Oh my, he sucks.  This photo (shown above), I took.  It is an allegorical symbolic visual metaphor for a lady's lovely part.  That is art.  That is life.  I am an artist.  I am talented. jimmy is a talentless boob. jimmywrites blog is so god-awful bad that reading it slows the spin of the planet - his blog may be responsible for climate change - it may cause the end of life as we know it.  

It was said by Oscar Wilde that, "Life imitates art far more than art imitates life."  Well, to that, i say, "jimmy is an idiot imitating a moron, and knows neither art nor life".  I hate him (jimmy, that is, not Oscar). Happy New Year, jerks.

ballyhoo

to whom it may concern,
I have been off the grid.  jimmy tells me there is a ballyhoo afoot to get me back into the public life.  I cannot oblige.  I give you this selfie so that you can see I am okay.  I am leaving you with the knowledge that all you need to know - in order to live a happy, fulfilled life - is contained in the words I have already put in this blog.  All you need, here.  Nothing important remains to be written.  By anyone.
Love,
squirrel 

You can't help

I want to be more than a biological urge. I want to stop thinking about my sexuality. It is an immense task. Maybe you can help.

God loves Me

Sorry faithful readers, but once again, I had given up on this blog.  (FYI - my "backrub" with the Latina princess ended up being a 30 year old Russian guy screaming and trying to wrap me up in the bedsheets to throw me outside.  Savages.)  As usual, it is jimmy's blog that gets me back to the keyboard.  But this time I actually sympathize with his dilemma regarding Heaven.  I look down at my beautiful furry arms typing away.  So soft. so perfect, and I assume God has made me in God's image and God's arms are just as furry, just as soft, just as perfect.  And I think about jimmy's hideous pink fur-less appendages and I know jimmy must understand that no God could love anything that ugly.  No wonder jimmy's connection with Heaven is blurred - he's not going.

Contemplación

This morning I lie in bed, staring at the hotel bedroom ceiling,  wondering: why?, how did I get to this place? how long will I need to endure this life's suffering? will jimmy notice I am using his credit card? should I clip my nails, or grow them out crazy recluse style? When the maid comes in, will she see me lying here and offer me a quick backrub? There, finally something worth thinking about. I hope she's Latina. Muy bueno. Donde esta la "lotion"?

Vacate Iowa!?

So, I decide I need a little r&r. So, I decide i will head out for a little vay-cay (tion). For inspiration, I type "vacation" into google, and my auto-correct comes up with "vacate iowa" and next thing I know,  I'm booked for two nights in god-forsaken wis-flippin-consin. So, i arrive at the hotel, and the urinals are ridiculously high...has anyone else encountered this?

As opposed to speeding up?

I was retired from this blog. But then I see something like this photo and I just want to cry, and then scream into someone's brain hole. "Road kill" is murder, not "oops".

Hibernation Journal 2013 - Entry #2

Just smile.

Hibernation Journal 2013 - Entry #1

Without a plan,
you're just another moron.