Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Caffeine: The Double-Edged Sword

Those of you who've been coming here (faithfully, may I add) for some time know that I'm pretty fussy about my coffee (click the ol' wayback machine here for one of my java rants).

Like millions of other coffee lovers, I have my sacred morning ritual of coffee and newspaper. I try valiantly to speed my way through the lion's share of the news so that by the time the caffeine opens the sluiceway between brain and body, I'm primed and ready to kick some booty on the NY Times Crossword.

Sometimes, though, there are articles in our 'News of The World'-esque journal that trip me up. I have to screech on the mental brakes and take a look.

And sometimes, only being half-caffeinated can make for some pretty amusing information gathering.

One piece that caught my eye was about a recent attack on a small girl by a rogue mountain lion.

Yes, this event could have been tragic. Yes, it's pretty serious. Yes, it's yet another argument for the encroachment of man on local wildlife, the encroachment of local wildlife on man, and all the ensuing debates. Blahdee, blahdee, blah.

But really.

To my barely awake mind, it was these two magic words:

"Cougar", and

"Expert". Nothing else really mattered.

My heart began to pitty-pat. Here was something potentially fraught with double entendres, and therefore worthwhile persuing further.

I was not disappointed.

(Thank you, Mr. Andy Ivens, reporter extraordinaire)

By the way, if you are a woman of older-ish persuasion and are:

a) in the midst of your hormone circus, and
b) the proud owner of a pulse

then you have, at one time or another, exhibited cougar-like tendencies.

If you deny this, my friend, methinks that you are not being totally honest with yourself. Hell, I've admitted it. Proudly. Publicly. More than once (check out sausage-fest Exhibit A and Exhibit B).

Do any of these attributes sound vaguely familiar? C'mon. Confess.

"Cougars try to avoid large meal tickets, expert says"

"When a cougar attacks, the struggle is violent and brief"

"Their jaw strength is quite strong, so that they can grab something and break through and sever the spinal cord"

"They are very explosive, like a sprinter"

"A lot of times when cougars attack humans, there's something wrong with them - either they're inexperienced in hunting or they're starving to death"

"If they aren't able to finish the job within a minute, they'll have to back off and try again later"

"The most amazing thing about them is their jumping ability and how athletic they are"

and finally,

"Cougars in Northern BC are probably the largest in the range"

Hey, now.

That one hurt my feelings.


[*vonB Aside: blogger has been having brain farts throughout my writing of this post. I've already redone it twice, and really? It's not worth doing a third. Apologies for the hot mess of layout mixups, irregular fonts, italics, whatnot. ]


♥~♥ Nine Acres ♥~♥ said...

You go girl! Rawr right back at ya! Oh, have you ever tried reading a Bengay bottle when drunk. Hil-ar-i-ous!

Cormac Brown said...

"Cougar" sounds infinitely better than the term that starts out with the letters "m-i-l," which sounds more like a supressed sneeze.

"The most amazing thing about them is their jumping ability and how athletic they are"

Only if one is stupid enough to underestimate one.

formerly fun said...

"Cougars in Northern BC are probably the largest in the range"
Hey, now.
That one hurt my feelings.

Haaaaaaaa,haaaaaa. I am a certified MILF and an aspiring cougar. As I have gotten older, I look at guys of all ages and I think the problem is that I remember so vividly being 17, that when I mind ogle a 17 year old boy, I forget I am now mom to 3 and 35 so it just doesn't seem that gross.

Years ago I asked my then 95 year old aunt how it felt to reach 90 and she said Chrissy, until I look in the mirror, I still feel like I'm 20.

baronessvonb said...

Countess T: Well, now the gauntlet has been thrown. Margeuritas and Ben-Gay, here I come!!

Count Cormac: Truer words, mac.

Countess FF: Like I keep telling my creeped-out sons (16 & 19), I KNOW I'm married - but I'm not dead, either. And really - isn't beauty there to be appreciated?


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