The Mouse and the Motorcycle


Due to content that some readers may find offensive, viewer discretion is advised.

NOT:

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Once upon a time there was a mouse.

Due to privacy practices, I can’t tell you her real name, but let’s call her Bonnie.

Bonnie was a normal mouse doing normal mouse-things, except for one little difference. Bonnie had rabies. She occasionally freaked out and bit people. She also had an annoying habit of foaming at the mouth. During moments of sanity though, she was a mouse with big dreams and ideas.

One of her ideas was to start a movement to change the way mice were killed. She figured why suffer the agony of being poisoned with arsenic, or mutilated by a spring trap, or slowly starving to death on a glue trap? Mice should be able to turn themselves in to the Almighty Homeowner and request a more humane death.

This idea was met by those in her mice community with shock and horror. They had difficulty understanding the concept, especially since it came from a crazy mouse.

Lucky for this mouse though, it had a understanding motorcycle friend.

Due to privacy practices I can’t tell you the motorcycle’s real name, but let’s call him “Tommy“.

Tommy and Bonnie had a mutually beneficial relationship. Tommy would go on rides enjoying his freedom, and when he came back, Bonnie would scratch his seat and get the dirt out of his handlebars while he patiently listened and supported her crazy “choose how you die” ideas.

It was an unconventional motorcycle/mouse relationship, but it worked for them.

One day Bonnie had another brilliant idea. She would become the spokesperson for the “stop the insanity” movement, which was a group of mice, with and without rabies, who advocated the use of catnip for treating the painful symptoms of rabies as well as enjoying the buzz from consuming the herb.

She was excited to tell her friend about this latest idea and the extreme measures she was willing to go through to advocate for this cause. As she ran across the street to tell Tommy, a motorcycle came around the corner and ran Bonnie over.

The end.

Moral of the story? Even crazy mice with insane pipe dreams don’t deserve to be squashed.

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Don’t worry about me.


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I’m fine. Yes I gave away my sexy underwear. Not a big deal. Annoying yes. Be annoyed too. Support my cause, don’t worry. Ok, so I haven’t written funny witty humor and stuff because I’ve been a tad busy.

School started for my kids.

I purchased a domain and a friend and I are going to make it awesome…right friend? I hope he reads this. Anyway, I’m also exploring some social networking stuff.

Don’t worry still. My life doesn’t revolve around my death, but that is a part of my life. My life is actually falling down a bit of a rabbit hole right now, but I always wanted to skydive, and this feels pretty damn good.

Until later when I promote my site, social media, and sell tshirts. Ok, actually I will still populate this blog with wonderfully entertaining morsels. I have a glorious bed time story brewing.

Oh where, oh where are my underwear?


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Just went through all my underwear and put the sexy ones in the “charity” pile. I think I’m going to throw up now. Why am I still alive again? Oh yeah, this. This cause, and my kids of course. They will learn to value death as well as life.

While you normal people are dancing around enjoying the normal things in life, remember some of us are out here throwing out sexy stuff as we finally accept that will no longer be us. Anyway, pretend I’m still sexy and support assisted suicide.

The Box


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Once upon a time there was a box. It was a beautiful box, at least it had been. Over the years it had become dented and worn, but it still functioned as a box.

As time went on, the box became a little frustrating. The inside of the box felt stuffy and claustrophobic, while the outside of the box felt chained down. The bright colors of the box had become a dismal gray.

The world outside the box talked about how stable boxes should look and act. The world inside the box was comforted and sheltered by the box, but aware of its fragile state.

The world outside said the box should never open. The world inside needed the box. The box was dying.

What if the inside and the outside of the box agreed to open the box? The shelter for the inside world would remain stable and could be closed when needed. The outside world might not understand, but do they really understand now?

Here’s to open boxes!

Life and death emergency, please help me


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I picked up a prescription today. If I had paid cash it would have cost $1,713.73. Thanks to my medicare “advantage” plan I paid $691.18. Thanks to my husband I was able to get this. The copayment would have been more than my monthly social security disability “benefits”.

There are thousands of people in America just like me. I’m not done yet. I have this cause, this movement to fight for, but many of those thousands are done with this life, but their body hasn’t died yet. Quit making your grandma choose between meds that make her sick, or food that she can’t taste, while she begs you to help her.

Let us go!

How dare you sentence us to a life of meager existence to ease your conscience!

No one should spend their life savings as they writhe in pain to wait until something “naturally” kills them. The arguments against assisted suicide stem from superstition and religion.

WAKE UP!

Someone reading this knows someone who can help me. Please! I’m just one person, but we can do this together.

Wonderful News!


Someone finally asked me why I want to die! It’s starting…

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I went to two of the stores I frequent most and asked if my dogs can use their stores as training grounds for becoming service dogs. I want our min pin imposter to be capable of opening manual doors, picking up dropped items, pulling items off the lower shelves in stores, and being good. Our smaller dog rides on my lap in stores and I would like her to be able to pull items off midrange shelves.

My hands are growing dangerously numb. Like don’t know they’re in the fire numb. Multiple sclerosis always affected me from the waste down until a few years ago when my fingers started getting numb. Now it’s both of my entire hands.

I’m probably going to have to invest in some Dragon Naturally Speaking software for writing soon, so prepare for lots of typos.

Anyway, so a store employee asked me why I want to die. I explained how I want to plan my death just like people do weddings or funerals. I explained that I would like to pull the plug before my kids are wiping my ass. The only arguments I can possibly conceive are all religiously based. Why the un-religious members of society haven’t already pushed for this is beyond me.

I also got a chance to talk to a neighbor about this.

Bottom line though, I desperately need a lawyer. Has to be pro bono, but the publicity alone will be payment enough.

I spoke with the city attorney about it, and will post more from that conversation later, but I have a much bigger plan that I definitely need a lawyer before I implement.

Th city attorney recommended I speak with lawyers who are used to dealing with wills and stuff. So, if anyone knows a lawyer who is open minded, wants interesting cases, and willing to work for publicity, please direct them to me.