Okay - First of all - People, please! If you can't keep animals from gnawing off parts of your kid's body while you sleep off your last bender - DON'T HAVE ANY FRIGGEN KIDS!!!! It's called birth control - look into it! Not everyone is equipped to raise future generations. Know your limits. I don't want your neglected, pissed-off-at-the world kid killing my kid, someone else's kid, or me!
Now that I've got that out of my system - check out the ads for ferret supplies next to the horrifying news story about the baby whose toes may have been chewed off by.... wait for it.....wait for it.... A FERRET!! I guess we're lucky they weren't advertising toe socks. Yes - maybe a cage would have been good, because you never know what crazy bullshit a ferret is apt to pull when left to it's own devices. That foxy ferret was probably dipping the kid's toes in drawn butter for optimal flavor enhancement while the "parents" slept.
Ugg, stuff like this makes me wish my parents were still alive so I could thank them for not killing or maiming me. Not that they didn't try though. My dad used gasoline to clean everything. Including hands. Including my hands. Hey, he only set himself on fire once and he never set me on fire. Then there was that one time in Canada when I was almost eaten by a wolf. I was covered in guts and blood from cleaning fish and my dad thought it was okay for me to wander off alone to the edge of the woods. The same woods that were full of hungry wolves. Probably a bear or two as well. I'm pretty sure that was the same summer he took me fishing and our tiny, aluminum boat almost got knocked over by a pod of crazed Orcas.
This is a fairly accurate depiction of that day. *
That was exciting.
My point is - I'm not dead, I still have all my fingers and toes and I have a shitload of cool stories to blog about. But I am starting to question whether or not my parents took out a life insurance policy on me.
* yes - that's me in the green dress
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