Oh, the Zoomanity!

After hurricane Sandy, my commute into NYC started to suck bad, so I started pretending that the rude jerkboxes on the bus and train with me were ADORABLE FLUFFY CRITTERS. It keeps me from having panic attacks during my needlessly stressful travel time. Sometimes I even scratch a Hoboken day trader between the ears, for good measure. Everybody wins.

[ohthezoomanity]

Everybody Say Fluff

Ah, more rain AND SNOW. I bet you were like this this morning:

You guys, in June we'll all look back on this winter and LAAAAAUGH and laugh and laugh. But while it's still sad and not yet funny, we need something powerful to get us through the day. Today, on this snowy, narsty March Monday, let us think of the Japanese Dwarf Flying Squirrel.

Look at the camaraderie on that branch there!

These little handfuls of fur and whiskers thrive in subalpine forests. So when we're out there today lamenting subway seats that are pooling with umbrella drippings, we shall recall that the Japanese Dwarf Flying Squirrel endures hurricane-force winds in ice-covered trees, where temps can get down to -7F in MAY. Does the weather get them down? Nay! The Pteromys momonga endures, and remains as cute as a chubby furry button with fluff on top.

HANG IN THERE! 

Today I shall be a Japanese Dwarf Flying Squirrel. The weather will not daunt me. I will be adorable and fluffy, and not silently curse my surroundings and everyone I come in contact with. I will spread my gliding membranes and soar triumphantly over the traffic and crowds, and hang out on a twig like it's my job. I mean, compared to central Honshu, the tri-state area will be pretty balmy later today! There's incredible power in cuteness, my friends. Let's harness the wuvvums and fluff, and give the world a better Monday. 

This Commuter Critter is dedicated to the fine people who take the PATH to and from the World Trade Center. Ya see, that stop is closed on the weekends now. For the whole year. Those poor people had to deal with that transit mess all weekend, and then woke up to today's gloom and doom. Chin up, friends! Stay fluffy!

[ohthezoomanity]

How to Win Friends and Survive a Nuclear Winter

New York was out in rare form yesterday! Temps soared around 65 °F here, and everyone was romping through the parks and soaking up the long-awaited sun. Today's going to be in the fifties in Jersey City, with rain starting in the afternoon.

Tomorrow at 9 AM? 22°F, FEELS LIKE 6°F. 

hahhahahahhahahhaha oh god.

Tomorrow when we walk to the subway or wait for the bus, I suggest that we all channel our inner Extremophile! ex·trem·o·phile (noun \ik-ˈstrē-mə-ˌfī(-ə)l\ "an organism that lives under extreme environmental conditions"

Having a hard time picking your favorite Extremophile? Allow me to introduce you to one of the hardiest creatures on the planet: the lovable Tardigrade!

The Tardigrade can be frozen, boiled, dried out, and irradiated. They look at nature and say, "Bring it on, Mama! Is that all you got?" They can survive in a vacuum. They can survive without water. You can also call them "Water Bears" or "Moss Piglets." Basically, they're the coolest species in school.

These microscopic rock stars are only about .05 MM fully-grown, and like to hang out near lichen and moss. Look at this little friend cuddling up to a dinner the size of his whole body! 

I think that part of the Tardigrade's ultimate survival status is his solid positive self-image. He knows what you're thinking. He just doesn't care, because he knows that you're going to step outside tomorrow, cussing in the cold, while he vacations in temperatures up to −458°F. That's one degree above absolute zero, my friends. He's all, "the cold never bothered me anyway."

Hats off to you, my little Moss Piglet! Keep the memory of this tough little fella close at hand tomorrow, and probably also break out those hand-warmer packets that your grandma gave you for Christmas. We can't all be Tardigrades, but at least we can be prepared!

SERIOUSLY IT'S IN THE FIFTIES RIGHT NOW AND IT'S GOING TO FEEL LIKE SIX DEGREES TOMORROW YOU'VE BEEN WARNED TRI-STATE AREA

Extra-special present: here's an adorable music video about Tardigrades! 

[ohthezoomanity]

Balto, can you hear me?

As you know, the Northeast continues to spew forth its vile white venom. Manhattan is braced for up to six inches of snow today, with some layers of ice thrown in there just for fun.

For those of you who think snow is pretty, this is what it looks like in New York after a couple of hours:  

It just gets worse from there. So here's what I need to get me through the day; images of sled dogs dancing in my head!

(This is also how I felt when I woke up this morning.)

Be ye Husky, Malamute, Samoyed, or Siberian, if you can gleefully scamper over ice and snow, I need you in my life today! 

"But I don't have a sled," you say? Just strap on some skis and grab your two new best friends, and you're off.

These loving furbutts used to help deliver mail during the Alaskan Gold Rush, so surely they can help me get to the PATH train alive. It makes me warm and fuzzy just seeing their schnozzolas.

Ice puppies, come to me! We will battle the conditions together, and then I will make us all some hot cocoa, or wait dogs can't have chocolate ummm warm dog food broth? Anyway, we'll keep each other warm, and recover from the elements.

Be careful on the ice today, friends!  Even Penguins fall down sometimes. More on that here.  

All joking aside, some people are total dicks and severely mistreat their sled dogs.  For information on the awful conditions of the Iditarod and the mistreatment of these glorious animals, please see helpsleddogs.org.

[ohthezoomanity]

Non-human primates FTW!

Oh January, you are such a trickster. Last week it was 6 degrees.  Now it's 46 with 86% humidity! What's a girl to do?  

One of the things that drives me nuts about commuting through Hoboken every day is the number of women with perfect-looking hair. I mean, even in the rain/snow/fog/below freezing temperatures/super hot temperatures, these girls have it goin on. How? What don't I know about hair, life, atmosphere?

I know that these people probably have secrets, or don't walk 10 minutes in the weather to get to the train, or maybe it's genes and they just plain have better hair than I do. That's okay. I don't hate you ladies because you look like you just stepped out of a salon! But I am resentful that my hair wilts like spinach at the faintest hint of a gentle mist.  

After ten minutes in a warm hat, my hair is plastered to my head. After waiting for the bus in the heat for five minutes, I have temple-and-back-of-neck sweat. If there's even a smidge of extra moisture in the air, I just give up and know that I'll have SuperFrizz. On days like this I either:

A. throw my hair into a jaunty ponytail with a colorful scarf around the front, and then don't look at it again all day and hope no one else does either even though eventually the scarf starts to slide and the hair around my ears and glasses arms starts to poof out and at the end I look like a frazzled housekeeper from a 1960's sitcom, or

B. obsess about it in every mirror or reflective surface that I encounter, each time considering shaving my head or getting a smart 90's pixie cut so I never have to worry about it again. 

I can just hear the Cotton-top Tamarin whispering in my ear, "Que Sera Sera, darling."

Cotton-top doesn't worry about her hair. She goes with the flow, and just trusts that nature will make her look fabulous. These Tamarins are one of three Amazonian species of Tamarins. Do you know how much humidity is even up in an Amazonian rainforest? Cotton-top knows it's best to just accept life as it is, and go boldly forward with your hair a-poof.  Don't stress! It just makes your hair frizzier!

Oh, she looks so noble.  

Another factor that makes Cotton-tops endearing to me is that they actually *can* whisper. These creatures live in a daggone rainforest, but they are better at inside voices that most people in the tri-state area. They're actually the first non-human primates to be found to lower their voices purposefully! Check out this video about the discovery at the Central Park Zoo! What polite and fashionable beasts.  

Today I will imagine one on my shoulder, whispering inspiration and comforting thoughts as I face all of the flat-ironed, perfectly-waved, straight-banged hair on the train. I will hold my poofy hair high, and whisper back my thanks to my spirit animal of the day.  

So, dear friends, walk fearlessly into this crazyass fog with your hair held high!  And when that baby banker hurls his pompous voice over your head to his friend, who barks back some bald-faced misogyny about the easy piece of tail he picked up at Stewed Cow last night, just think, "EVEN MONKEYS CAN WHISPER" and laugh to yourself about how un-evolved those d-bags are.  

Girl, your hair is fierce!

[ohthezoomanity]

You think holidays are stressful? Ask Kate, Rudolph's distant cousin.

People are just terrible. We're all out there, jamming into department stores and malls and shopping districts, dragging our coats, digging for tissues, sweating, and if you're me, getting elbowed in the boob a lot. And why are we out there? To prove that we love the people that we love. We're all trying to find things that we can hand to our relatives, our partners, our significant business relations, to let them know that we care. Or at least that we didn't completely forget them. A token of our feelings! BUT AT WHAT COST?? Yesterday I walked into Jack's 99 cent store in Herald Square, and saw two women in a physical altercation over a bin of women's cotton underwear. I turned and ran out, sacrificing my opportunity to purchase 59-cent gift bags, but preserving my sanity.

But see, nobody forced me to be there. Nobody put a heavy leather necklace with giant metal bells on it and drove me into Herald Square for children to poke and laugh at. I was out shopping because I CHOSE to. It was stressful, but not humiliating, and I could leave whenever I wanted (okay, whenever all of those terrible meatsack angerball underwear-punchers got out of my way).  

Oh yeah, and nobody scalped a friend of mine and made me wear the hair of my fallen brethren on my head while all that was going on.

Meet Kate.

Kate is a reindeer. She was born in April of 2012, and lives with her owner Trevor on an animal sanctuary in Bromyard, Herefordshire. Last December, Kate was slated to lead a holiday parade at a "Santa Grotto" in Bromyard, but her antlers hadn't grown in yet. 

What to do, what to do?? Would Christmas be ruined? The shame!  The mortification! The ignominy!!! Would hundreds of British children's eyes have melted out of their heads to see a REINDEER WITH NO ANTLERS? 

We'll never know, because Trevor scooped up some "extra antlers" he had lying around (WHAT DOES THAT MEAN), lashed them to some fake fur. . .

and strapped the REINDEER TOUPEE TO KATE'S HEAD.

When interviewed about this decision by SWNS.COM, Trevor said: “People don’t even notice that she’s got anything other than real antlers which is the mark of how good the toupee is.

"No-one knows when she is out and about during the shows – you can’t tell the difference. She looks a lot happier now, at first she really looked like the odd one out."

YOU GUYS SHE LOOKS SO MUCH HAPPIER.

This is apparently not even the first time that Trevor had done this.  The first time, he used rabbit pelts to antlerfy his reindeer.

Here is my point: when you're out and about running errands because you want to do lovely things for the people you love, remember that you are braving the crowds because you have chosen to.  You don't *have* to.  Nobody is strapping an antler wig on your head and dragging you into a mob of Herefordshire street urchins, telling you "You're disappointing everyone! You're a weirdo and a loser! Wear your brother's dead headbones and SMILE, BABY, SMILE!"

What I'm saying is, the people in your life who truly love you will still love you if everything is not (your idea of) perfect for Christmas.

As you brave the crowds and traffic for your last few gifts, keep Kate in your heart, and remember my wish for you: May the line for the registers be short, may you forgive other shoppers for being dicks, and may your holiday season be blissfully free of Trevors.

[ohthezoomanity]

What does the fox say? "I'M FREAKIN ADORABLE."

I know, you guys. This whole "below-freezing" thing in November is complete flapdoodle. I can tell from my early-morning FB feed that people are going to be in a grump-o-tastic mood today, so I call upon a beast that takes the cold in stride. ( Arctic Fox enters, laughing)

The Arctic Fox don't pay the cold no nevermind!  When the temps start dropping, her fur turns white so she can slink along the tundra and pounce on her dinner undetected. When food gets scarce, does she complain? Does she whine about not having Seamless to bring her some warm seal blubber on a snowy night? Naw, she gets all crafty and follows around polar bears to dine on their fine leftovers.  Sly!

In the wild, the Arctic Fox only lives about three years, so she doesn't have time to post complainy status updates about the weather. She just does her thing, and she does it with a fluffy wuvvums face!

Today, as I leave home, I too will change my coat for the season. Wrapped in my big silver puffy astronaut parka, I will behold nothing but a sea of Arctic Foxes. We will roam the land together, accepting the cold as part of life, heading to our underground tunnels to travel and hunt. And together we will say "Ring-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding" to the chill in the air. Happy Wednesday, friends! Be foxy.

[ohthezoomanity]

All in favor of being fabulous, say Aye-Aye

Sometimes people just don't get me. You know what I mean;  like, a whole week where you're full of great ideas and you just bust open and shower the planet with your brainstorms, and people react by going "uhhhhhhhhh..."

That, times a thousand, is what the poor Aye-Aye deals with every day. 

The Aye-Aye lives in Madagascar rain forests. He's all, "Hey, I like to eat grubs and stuff. I got this long skinny middle finger that has a ball-and-socket joint, and it's badass. I think I'll tap on this here tree with my awesome finger til I hear a hollow spot with my rad giant ears, then use my crazy-sharp teeth to gnaw a hole in the tree, then use my mad-skinny finger to fish out grubs and yummy stuff.  I AM AMAZING! I AM GRUB-TASTIC! DON'T BE JEALOUS."

Yeah, check that sucker out.

The problem is, the people of Madagascar are so freaked out by this little guy and his finger that they think HE'S A DEMON. The Aye-Aye is hunted and killed to rid the area of bad luck. He's all, "wait, I'm just doing my thang," and the Madagascaran villagers are all "he pointed his creepy devil finger at me!  KILL THE BEAST!" This animal has been made such a scapegoat, he's nearly extinct. That's how much he's hated.  It's totally messed up. 

Personally, I think he's smart and evolutionarily gifted, and also he looks like some adorable creature from Labyrinth. 

So today, friends, let your freak flag fly. If you're out and about, on a train, at your office,  or just not getting any love on your social media, think of the Aye-Aye! This planet is not always kind to the clever and fancy. Haters sure gonna hate, but we got it a durn sight better than this poor little booger. 

So go forth, my friends, and bring your fabulosity to the masses! Whatever your personal Aye-Aye finger is, I call on you to flaunt it, swing it, wave it all around today with the comfort that no villagers are gonna kill you for it. If you are met with jerkitude, smile bravely and just know you're gonna feast on your soul-grubs while the mean people waste away into boringness. Weirdos unite!!!

(For an extra Wednesday treat, check out this hilluuuuuurrrious youtube video about my darling Aye-Aye.  That narrator knows what I'm talkin about.)

[ohthezoomanity]

I was only foolin, George. I don't want no health care. Can I still tend the rabbits?

Okay, so I was gone for a week on a cruise. You would think that would have been relaxing, but in actuality it was all of the worst stereotypes from Long Island and New Jersey and Germany packed onto a boat, on its way to Bermuda, which turned out to have the MOST TERRIFYING PUBLIC TRANSIT I HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED. I should have conjured a commuter critter before I left! But I thought, oh, I'll be on vacation!  RELAXING. Oh goodness.

So we returned from a stressful boat ride to an island full of stressful bus rides  back to the good ole US of A, and now the government has crashed, and everyone on my Facebook is saying "Rabbit Rabbit." Apparently it's good luck to do so on the first day of the month, but somehow hundreds and hundreds of first-of-months have passed me by without my having ever noticed this quaint little custom. I'm wise to April Fool's, May the Fourth be with you, and Talk Like a Pirate day. How have I missed this one?

Regardless, "Rabbit Rabbit" seems like a pretty comforting thing to say on a day when our government has decided to fall apart.  hank god the post office is still open to take my COBRA payment to its rightful place. I mean as much as me and Lenny and George would love to live off the fat of the land, dear DC, could you kindly scrape it together so I have time to put together a prepper kit, at least?

On this bizarre day, I will thank my lucky stars that I am not on a pink bus in Bermuda careening around scooters and pedestrians. I am grateful to be part of this secret "Rabbit Rabbit" good luck charm, and I am happy that, as crappy as my commute may be, it's a flabillion times safer than what people in other places have to go through.   

And I will keep my fingers crossed that my country doesn't kill us by petting us too hard.  

To ease all of our minds, I give you a day full of bunnies. 

Thoft. 

You ain't gonna leave me, are you, Congress?

[ohthezoomanity]

Hardcore Markhor

So the summer is coming to an end and temperatures are cooling down, but I still occasionally find myself on what I thought was the PATH train, but which turns out to be the B and O railroad.  

That's right kids, I'm talking about people who smell like goats.  

Ugh. I know there are all kinds of reasons why a person might smell bad, and I get it, but I don't have to like it. Come on, man, you know you're going to spend at least 20 minutes of this day holding on to a train pole with your armpit in someone's face. If you smell like this at 7:45 am, what's it gonna be like at teatime, when you've had time to marinate? And worse:  if it's close quarters, sometimes I SMELL LIKE THE SMELLY PERSON WHEN I GET OFF THE TRAIN. Why, cruel world, whyyyyyyy?

It's ok, Alex. Those aren't stinky jerks out to ruin your day.  They're just a bunch of Markhors.

How could you be angry at this corkscrew-headed bearded wonder? Look at his cloven-hoofed majesty! He's so wizened and noble!

The Capra Falconeri not only has faaaaaabulous facial hair, but also EATS POISONOUS SNAKES. You know, when he's not busy cruising around the Himalayas admiring his fancy curlicue horns. It's how he rolls. Look how humble!

Oh Markhor, I know you don't like to brag, but I'm going to tell them anyway: Markhors be staaaaaank. They are stinky stinkertons, often described as "pungent" and having a "smell that surpasses that of the domestic goat." Do the locals get irritated by them? Do they pinch their noses indignantly and huff when they have to hang out with Markhors?  NO. The villagers collect their cud to use as an antidote against snake bites. They LOVE the stinky Markhor, because it has so much to offer!

Today I will be a Himalayan villager, and I will admire every Markhor whose musk wafts my way.  Also, they're endangered, so it's extra-crummy to wish death on them. A note to Markhors: I don't need any of your cud, so please keep that mess in your mouth. Happy Thursday! 

[ohthezoomanity]

Alex and Olinguito, Masters of Disguise

Today I'm glad that scientists are still out there shaking the bushes for new species. Why? Because last week they found my new best friend, the Olinguito!

Here's the thing: this jerk has been hiding in plain sight all along.  This smallest member of the Raccoon family has been mistaken all this time for its larger, brasher cousin, the Olingo. Upon closer inspection though, the Olinguito is smaller, has a longer coat, and looks far less likely to rip your eyeballs out and run away than this guy does:

Sheesh, dial it back a notch, Olingo. 

Today, I hide in plain sight like the noble Olinguito. I will move among the Olingos, weaving in and out and pretending to be one of them, all the while smiling my cuddly smile, and enjoying being incogn-uito. Today the PATH train and the MTA tunnels will become my Andean cloud forest, and I will leap from tree to tree unannounced, unrecognized, and thrilled to be mistaken for all those other raccoonish beasts. I will keep my secret in my furry heart that I am a special snowflake, a new breed, an exciting discovery just waiting for those with a keen enough eye to recognize the little things that set me apart from the crowd. But I don't need to be discovered today.

So congratulations to you, Olinguito, o darling cross between house cat and teddy bear; you were unceremoniously dragged out of the best hide-and-seek spot ever known to the world, and you took it with dignity and grace. But there is much to be learned from a species as slick as you, and I look forward to learning all of your trade secrets as I don my fake teddy bear ears and disappear into the faceless crowd. 

[ohthezoomanity]

ChinChillin like a Villain

It's stormy and humid, people are mean, this week has been stressful, and I need comforting nuzzles.  Today I ride with Chinchillas.

They're like a hybrid of bunnies, possums, and that kid from Malcolm in the Middle.  

They will bring me snuggles and joy. 

I will get on my air conditioned bus and one of them will go like this to me

yesss

CHINCHILLA THURSDAYS ARE THE BEST

[ohthezoomanity]

Does this make me a Frony?

Today I'm here to lay some Mini Horse Realness on you guys.  I'm talking about the Falabella. You need these guys in your life.

it's obvious that this is the only way I'll make it through this stormy day.  

I want to be surrounded by the world's smallest horses today. Yeah, they're inbred to be wee, but don't hold that against them. They make excellent companion animals! PLUS, BONUS! They're only about two grand, and look what you can do:

My greatest hope for today is that someone photoshops my head on that lady's head, because I can already see myself in that buggy.

We'll be blowing past the Jersey traffic, my little Falabella and I! I'll wave to the adoring children as we trot to the PATH train in our elegance. Then I'll unhook my little teeny equine, and we'll trot down the PATH stairs together to join the crowds of adorable little six-to-eight-hands-high horsies. They will greet me with affable whinnies, and nuzzle me with their lilliputian muzzles! I will feed them sugar cubes and laugh and laugh as their tiny horsefaces graze against my hand. We'll be in the city lickety-split, and my heart will be full to bursting with Falabella love.

The day is full of promise and wonder! And rain. And jerks. And i never got my boots re-soled, so I'll be wearing sneakers in this weather. I can already feel the squish.

(mini horse mini horse mini horse mini horse shanti shanti ommmmm)

That's better.  :)

[ohthezoomanity]

Walk it off like a fish

Winter is finally dead, and the city is blossoming!  All is right with the world. So why is my bus ride taking a half hour longer than usual??  With such lovely weather, why are the PATH train denizens still grunting angrily when I politely scoot by them as they stand in the open doorway like PERSIAN SENTRIES? Why did that guy who stood right next to me on the train last night have to use crappy pickup artist sarging tricks on his lady-friend within my earshot ON THE WHOLE RIDE HOME??  I continue to be irritated at the world.

Know who has a smile on his face all the time, though?

The Mexican Walking Fish.

OMG HE'S SO MAGICAL!!

The Mexican Walking Fish, or Axolotl (aks-oh-lottle) is endangered, but that doesn't wipe the grin offa his face. Why?  Maybe cuz this dapper Dan can REGENERATE LIMBS! Baller.

Today I will be surrounded by these bizarre beauties. Axolotl doesn't get aggro. He takes a deep breath through those rad external gill stalks that double as a fab fashion statement, and gives me his seat. Then he flashes me his charming fishgrin full of vestigial teeth as I take a load off. He's graceful and has impeccable manners.  Axolotl is my new hero. 

You guys, what a darling! I can't wait to get on the train with these perfect gentlemen. I have to admit, I'm a sucker for a man who can regenerate. Happy May!

[ohthezoomanity]

I need some ambush hunters on my side

So yesterday I rode the train with one Jersey Cow.  She was up in my business like this:

She was a skinny cow, but a cow nonetheless, and although she had four feet of room on the other side of her, she leaned the ENTIRE WEIGHT of her Jersey cow hide up against my right arm. So I leaned back. She leaned more. 

So what could I do? I waited for the train to stop short, and moved out of the way. 

That's right, you guys. COMMUTER COW TIPPING. OH VENGEANCE YOU ARE MINE! 

(This blog does not condone the actual tipping of cows)

So as you mayyyyy have noticed, my spirit animals have gotten a little off track. Instead of slow lorises, I occasionally imagine that everyone on the train turns into dinosaurs, and I'm in Jurassic Park hiding in a control room where nobody will find me, and I gleefully watch them eat each other on all the security cameras.

Sometimes I make them all ostriches, with special ostrich-holes in the floor of the bus where they can stick their heads so I don't have to hear them talk on the phone or see their stupid ostrich faces.

One time I actually imagined that I was the Red Bull from The Last Unicorn, and everyone was around me was a unicorn, and I was herding them all into the Hudson. But then I was angry, because I wanted to be a unicorn too, and then I felt SO VICTIMIZED by the bull and angry at my co-unicorns for being pushed around by ghostcattle. Come on, you guys! We all have SWORDS ON OUR FACES! Let's get em!!! No?Unicorns are such pussies. Then Jeff Daniels Bridges started to sing, and my day was just ruined.

Which brings me to the Tiger Quoll.

Today, I will be surrounded by my friends, the Tiger Quolls. They are some of everything I love in an animal:

Furry

Spotted

Marsupial

Carivorous

Adorable

Ambush hunter

They will flock to my side, these cuddly little opportunistic feeders, and surround me with their spotted fluff and their gleaming pink noses. Their innocent eyes will sparkle in the transit light. And if another Jersey Cow tries to pull some stupid territorial pissing match with me, they will go like this:

And hopefully then eat her carcass.

So the moral of the story is, I need to do these posts more often, because things are getting dark over here, my friends. I hope that your day is cow-free and full of adorable marsupials who have your back.  xoxoxoxxo

[ohthezoomanity]

Today I will have allllll the cute

So yesterday was Easter. Today is April fool's day. And March sure came in like a lion, and out like a lamb. What does that mean for my Monday commute?

It means that I will ride the bus with BUNNIES AND CHICKIES AND THIS SWEETUMS DUMPLING SHEEPIE TODAY!  

Jerkomatic bike messenger with no deodorant? No match for my phalanx of baby chicks! I will hunker down behind them as their furry tails tickle my nose and take solace as they PEEP PEEP PEEP at him til he takes his pit hair to another part of the bus. 

Girl with Louis Vitton bag and brassy lowlights who has wrapped herself entirely around the pole like it's her job? Here comes a bunny battering ram! This hunny bun will hop to it and explain to the lady that you really only need to hold on with one hand, not your whole torso. And because it's coming from a wuvvy dumdums, the girl will smile! We'll laugh! She'll unwind herself from the pole, put on her Beats, and thank the bunny for the valuable lesson. 

When we're all on the escalator and we get to the top and the ding dong in front of me STOPS and I almost die, the little lamb will say to me, 'hey girl, I got this.' Then he will corner the offender and explain the merits of occasionally being sheeplike. Yeah, that's right, be cute, and keep following the person in front of you so you don't get another sheep head up your butt. This lamb will lay down some truth, and we'll all walk away a little wiser. 

Then we'll all cuddle. Winning. 

Happy first day of April, everyone.  May today be your cutest commute ever!

[ohthezoomanity]

Look out Gene Simmons!

This snow has left me confused and disoriented. COME ON, MARCH! So as I don my snowboots yet again, my thoughts wander to a darling, if confusing, little beast.  

Today I call on the Numbat to cuddle me on my travels.  

You, Madame Numbat! What a sassy rogue you are! Numbat, you're also known as 'Walpurti.' Cuz you so purti. I would love to be surrounded by you today. 

You are small and humble. You eat termites, so everybody loves you, and that explains your crazyass tongue. And you look like your ancestors went to a key party with their friends armadillo, squirrel, raccoon, and chihuahua, and nine months later, you came along. But hey, what happens in the eucalyptus forest STAYS in the eucalyptus forest, amirite?

Numbat, you are an enigma! What are you? YOU ARE A MARSUPIAL WITHOUT A POUCH, FOR CRYING ALL NIGHT!  

You're weird and you're furry, and you look like you have a (wal)purti excellent sense of humor. I saw a clip on youtube where the Aussie zookeeper said that you also like egg custard. Basically, you're my new best friend.  

Come with me today; come explore outside of your Numbat habitat, and board the NJ transit 87 with your old pal Alex. Bring your buddies. It'll be like Lepre Con, only it'll be Diurnal Myrmecobius FasciatusCon.  WINNING. 

[ohthezoomanity]

Not to Harp on the subject

This morning, you are all in for a rare treat, because we are all riding BABY HARP SEALS to work!!!  

The snow don't mean nothin to these adorable little carnivores. We'll all hang on tight as they slip and slide through the snow, skipping over public transit ENTIRELY as they usher us to work in a magical romp through this winter wonderland. You won't have to worry about your bus getting held up for ten minutes by that stupid Light Rail train, because you will be curling your fingers into the coat of your own little earless Pagophilus Groenlandicus!

Wave to the folks running down into the subway and pushing and shoving as you snuggle down into its furry blubbery back. You have your own little chubby self-thermoregulating version of Falcor to take you directly to your office doors!

Your coworkers will coo over your new BFF as you dismount and cheerfully knock the snow off of your boots. This is the best Friday ever.

No baby harp seals were harmed in the imagining of this blog post.