The Liberal Clause

http://blogtown.portlandmercury.com/BlogtownPDX/archives/2010/11/03/read-the-tea-party-childrens-book-about-how-obama-stole-christmas-no-really



literally....I am speechless

Sorry Deer!

So this weekend...major traumatic events ensued.

I went to go meet up with some of my lovely Armenian chicks (note the fact that one girl is actually Indian) at Karoun, a lovely middle-eastern restaurant in Newton. We laughed, we reminisced, we danced....it was a wonderful night, one of those nights that you didn't think anything would go wrong...

So then I left Karoun, on my way to go meet up with one of my dearest friends, Steph, who was back for the weekend from New York City. Excited to hear all about her adventures, the hometown crew decided we would all meet at Bar Louie to catch up...and by catch up we really mean binge drink.

I was driving back from Newton down 95 south, thinking of which cocktail I would have first...when I saw it.

A big Man-Deer....which I later found out is called a Buck....was climbing over the guardrail. Now, I was driving down 95 south, probably going at least 70 miles an hour, and I knew things were not going to end well for one of us.

I saw Bambi climb the rail, and then boom...he charged. He was running right towards me! Now I have had close calls with deer before, mostly on back roads, but I have always been able to stop in time, but not this time.

I was in the fast lane, and there were other cars behind me so I couldn't swerve. And I couldn't tell whether it would be better to brake harder or gun-it faster to avoid the thing and BOOM.......I killed Bambi.

I pulled over to the side of the highway, where a man in a Tow-truck stopped to make sure I was OK. I saw the deer back on the highway, kicking it's final kick, and that was when I broke down.

I have always been an animal lover, and while animals have not always loved me back, I always get sad when one dies....especially because of my doing. This, all on the heels of my darling hamster Muffin untimely passing last week, has obviously thrown me into a severe depression.

While my brothers were concerned with whether or not I brought the deer back home in my truck, I was concerned whether or not the deers family would be waiting for him to come back home (My dad later told me that it's mating season and the Dad deer don't take care of the Baby Deer, thank god).

It was after all this, and a barrage of questions from my concerned relatives, that I realized I was also happy that I wasn't killed. Mostly because, I plan on ending my life in a blaze of glory, fighting the good fight, standing up for the injustices in the world! ...not to be squished by a horny deer.

That's all folks!

Annie G.