I'm sorry y'all, but I just have to interrupt this series about how important cabbage is in all our lives to report this news that I just found out.
A 31 year-old monkey in Sweden got up early the other morning before the zoo opened up and took to collecting a pile of rocks and sat there studying on when was the best chance to unload his stash on all the gawkers he had to put up with every day.
Then, around about noon, when enough of a crowd gathered that he figured he wouldn't waste his effort, he let loose slinging the rocks at the people gawking at him across the moat from the little island where they keep him.
Or, as the people who wrote up the study put it: "He waited until around midday before he unleashed a 'hailstorm' of rocks against visitors."
Here's the part that tickles me: "'These observations convincingly show that our fellow apes do consider the future in a very complex way,' said the author of the report, Lund University Ph.D. student Mathias Osvath."
I think I'll get me one of those Ph.d degrees so I can say what anybody with half a brain already knows and get spread all over the Google for saying it.
But I want to ask y'all how many times you've felt like doing what that monkey did.
I know I have. There are days when everything everybody's ever said that has pis*ed me off just builds up in me after a while, like stomach gas.
And at such times, though I try hard to be a Christian, my greatest desire is to bombard the world with my displeasure.
My weapon of choice might be different from that monkey's: I might load up on bricks, for instance, instead of rocks, or if I've had time enough to pray down my mad, I might take to pitching from that pile of Granny Smith apples I keep down in the cellar, but whatever weapon I choose, just like that monkey I'd take as much pleasure in the planning of the event as in the execution.
And the fact that scientists have now proven that all animals feel the same way just goes to show it's a 100 percent all-natural temptation.
Now here's the part of the story I most take to heart: "He rarely hit visitors because of his poor aim, and no one was seriously injured in the cases when he did."
That tells me to work on my aim so when I sling I won't miss.
All y'all who seek to please me don't have a thing to worry about.
The rest of y'all get ready to duck and cover when Granny Goforth's working up a mad.
Here's more about that monkey, if you care: http://tiny.cc/hXpaW
[All posts: Copyright 2008/2009 by Trixie Goforth and Sherry Austin, that girl who helps me out and wrote that book about my life called The Days Between the Years. Go on and push the envelope! (That little one down there with the arrow on it.) Forward my words of wisdom all over the globe. But all other rights (and writes) reserved.]
Want to lavish me with praise? Want to declare your everlasting love for me? Want to stay off the shi* list I keep on the back of a Duke Power bill envelope? Send me an email at trixiegoforth [at] gmail [dot] [com]. I will keep your email safe and warm beneath the flaps of my ample bosom.