Oh deer

Goooood morning MyWordVom.com! I don’t know about you, but this morning’s news has me like, womp. So depressing y’all! I just read about a mass suicide/homicide of a sweet little family, an Iranian execution and an article about that poor oppressed Lucille Ball statue like, back to back. That sculpture beautifully depicts Lucy’s grave excavation after a 27 year slumber, so I totally don’t get the fuss. That’s what the artist was going for right? If so, I think he nailed it.

Lucille Ball Hometown Statue
Beautiful corpse of Lucille Ball, amirite? Photo credit – The Post-Journal/AP and Time magazine

So yeah, it’s been a heavy morning. I had to read an article about sexy big data to cleanse the palette, and that bummed me out also. Apparently searches for the n-word surged after Obama was elected and then again after he was inaugurated. Like, what? I totally see the beauty of being uninformed.

Anyways, I think it’s important that I slice through that misery with the box cutter of my imagination. I’ll make a small but meaningful incision through the feces of reality, allowing for one solitary ray of sunshine to shine through.

Ready?

FullSizeRender (3)
Bambi

Cool – let’s talk about deer. I hung out with like 50 deer in the park this weekend, and it.was.glorious.  As many of you know, I grew up in the ‘burbs and bolted for city life at age 22, so I haven’t ever actually lived among wildlife. I’ve spent most of my life fearing wildlife (because Florida – alligators and palmetto bugs. Need I say more?), and it’s only recently that I’ve been like “heyy, wild animal. Let’s casually admire one another from very very far away, preferably via Instagram.”

So, yeah, this was a first for me.

My husband and I went to this park that’s famous for deer folk, and I begged to go looking for them. He succeeded in finding this little community of deer, so we crept right up and plopped down next to them. A few things ran through my mind as we watched them casually notice our presence. They questioned our intentions. Had we come to ply them with food in the hopes that, perchance, they’d gift us a selfie? Were we there to demonstrate our superior intellect by, like, discussing the virtues of the opposable thumb? Were we thinking of the last time we ate venison and internally lashing ourselves for touting the taste?

Maybe. I mean, all three thoughts passed through our minds. How could they not? Also I had Louis CK’s bit about how city people react when they see deer running through my mind the whole time, but it didn’t detract from the experience.

The overwhelmingly prevalent thought in my mind was actually much simpler than any of that. It was straight up prehistoric. It was something man and Bambi have been voicing for centuries, I’m sure of it.

As I was watching these vaguely donkey-faced mini-giraffes roam around in front of us I just kept thinking, “Wow. It’s so cool that we can coexist like this.”

And I think they agreed, y’all. I honestly do. How else do you explain the selfie this deer gifted to my husband? There is no other explanation.

Screen Shot 2016-08-08 at 12.35.08 p.m.
Cheeeese

 

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