This is a horrible story. I'm never buying a real tree again.
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Anonymous said…
Can you actually buy a Christmas tree in the UK? What, do they ship them over from Finland? During our rainy drive to Scotland I don't recall seeing many evergreens on that island.
One really should not fear bats. They are good creatures. Just a little strange if they're out of their element. I'm glad this woman seemed to feel humanely toward her little fledermaus.
Anonymous said…
My favorite bat memory was back in the 70's when one got into my parent's bedroom. There was a high arched ceiling and it flew around and scared the bejesus out of my mother. Dad took out the tennis racket and gave it a mighty volley as it tried to pass above. End of bat. Problem solved.
Yes, they have Christmas trees in England. They're not as lovely and full as a blue spruce, but they're perfectly acceptable. But it wouldn't surprise me in the slightest if they're from Finland.
One should ALWAYS fear bats, CP. Those little bastards will get you everytime. I feel that screaming like a little girl is perfectly acceptable in the presence of bats. In fact, I feel it is mandatory.
My favourite bat memory is either the time I had one in my store at work and then two in the house on Dayton Ave all in one night, or the huge bat in Blane's apartment that my friend Jim tried to catch in his bare hands. (He didn't.)
My dear sweet Mindy, bats are good. They are amazing creatures and I think kind of cute. Any animal that eat it's own wait in misquitos is okay with me.
It was probably pissed that it's home got cut down and then was sprayed with some white powder. An metaphor for what we are doing to the planet.
That being said, it would have scared the shit out of me too.
You're right, urbangal, the mosquito part is good. It's the flying into your head part I don't like. And yes, it happens. It's happened to me more than once. I swear their radar finds me.
Anonymous said…
Poor little bat...being chased by those rotten cats...My cat would have sat on him.
They say that, when the economy tanks and you can't see any way through your pile of bills and are wondering who you'll look wearing one of those barrels with shoulder straps, women buy lipstick and everyone goes to upbeat, escapist movies to take their minds off their troubles. But I'm here to tell you that any lipstick worth having is nigh 'bout $20 or more and you'll just end up regretting it, and Hollywood has not caught up with the times yet. Plus, it's Oscar season, so once you've seen Slumdog Millionaire your choices are sexy Nazis seducing children, attractive suburbanites mourning the death of their dreams, and nuns and priests talking about child abuse. (That said, I hear Gran Torino is a good diversion with a message, and if you don't hate Brad Pitt as much as I do you could probably sit through that Owen Meany movie where he ages like he's from Ork .) And while I'm as big a Kevin James fan as the next person, you can't ask him
This prize is awarded to the Executive MBA student who is judged by his or her peers to have contributed most to the overall success of the programme. Awarded to: Me I'm really happy about this - I've been the stream rep between the administration and my fellow students, which is the primary reason I've won this...I've managed a lot of situations and helped sort out problems, and while it's been a bit of work it's also been quite fun. I've got all sorts of thoughts and feelings, and in about an hour I'm calling my mom to hear about Thanksgiving with my brother and to tell her the news, but the over-riding reflection I have is this. My dad would be very, very proud. This would have made his day.
We've been picking out hymns and suits to wear at the visitation and crematory urns for the ashes and cemetery plots with a good view. My dad passed away at 1 PM on Father's Day. He'd been in excruciating pain, which progressed as the week went on. By Thursday night we had to up the morphine dose so that he slept all the time, but at least he wasn't writhing in pain. Metastasized bone cancer is an ugly, ugly thing. On Friday, I spent the day with him. I sat in the comfy chair in his room and read him my Managing Strategic Innovation prep work and case study. I guess I'm assuming it was the morphine that kept him sleeping, but we'll never really know. On Saturday, my mom and I played scrabble by his bed most of the day. There were some rousing plays, especially since she refused to let me play 'squab' and 'nori' because these were not familiar words to her and we didn't have an official scrabble dictionary handy. I called her a dirty cheater,
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One should ALWAYS fear bats, CP. Those little bastards will get you everytime. I feel that screaming like a little girl is perfectly acceptable in the presence of bats. In fact, I feel it is mandatory.
My favourite bat memory is either the time I had one in my store at work and then two in the house on Dayton Ave all in one night, or the huge bat in Blane's apartment that my friend Jim tried to catch in his bare hands. (He didn't.)
Thank you for providing me with the best Christmas story yet this season.
It was probably pissed that it's home got cut down and then was sprayed with some white powder. An metaphor for what we are doing to the planet.
That being said, it would have scared the shit out of me too.