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Cat Lover or Not, this is hysterical!
> We've all had trouble with our animals, but I don't think anyone can top
this one:
> Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate
my excuse,
> I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.
> On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the
truth
> was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a
head injury,
> and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I
reasoned, I could
> think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head. The
accident
> occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute
little kitty.
> Initially, the new acquisition was no problem
> Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my
wife,
> Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.
> "Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it."
> "You know where the button is," I protested through the shower
pitter-patter
> and steam. "Reset it yourself!"
> "But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me
in?" There
> was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a second."
> So out I came, dripping wet and butt naked, hoping that my silent outraged
> nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as
extremely cowardly.
> Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find
> the button. It is the last action I remember performing.
> It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances.
No, it
> wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It
was our
> new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied
hanging
> between my legs She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I
> reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most
vulnerable,
> she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her
needle-like
> claws. I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements,
blindly
> rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten
hanging from my
> masculine region.
> Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men,
in this
> predicament, choose only the "flight" option. I know this from experience.
I was
> fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and
forcefully
> impeded my ascent. The impact knocked me out cold.
> When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there are
> not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the
kitchen
> floor butt naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-that"
paramedics.
> Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all
> snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying
to
> suppress their hysterical laughter......and not succeeding.
> Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back in
to
> the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about
> my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about,
> which it was.
> "What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"
> If they only knew!
> Why is it that only the women laugh at this?
 

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:dowhat :hail :rotfl :rotfl :rotfl :rotfl :rotfl matey now thats a joke, couldnt stop laughing bloody wish I was working from home today at least then no-one would see me laughing like mad, getting bloody strange looks from them, oh well "Cut, paste send to office" that should help them.
Ally:hail
 

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Upside Down Super Mod,
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:laugh

It reminded me of the squirrel story.

Neighborhood Hazard (or why the Cops Won’t Patrol Brice Street anymore!)

I never dreamed that slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous!

Little did I suspect . . . I was on Brice Street, a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it - it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leaped. I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for “Banzai” or maybe “Die, you gravy-sucking heathen scum”! The leap was nothing short of spectacular … as he shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest! Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans, this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage! Picture a large man on a Huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his live with a squirrel! And, losing!

I grabbed for him with my left hand - after a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have! The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser!

But, NO! This was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary ticked-off squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!!!!!!!!!

Somehow, he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!

The situation was not improved. Not improved at all! His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him! I was startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. T o r q u e !!!!! This is what the Valkyrie is made for and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement! The squirrel screamed in anger, the Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy, and I screamed in … well, ….. I just plain screamed!

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back! The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder. With the sudden acceleration, I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but i really did not want to crash into somebody’s tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle …. my brain was just simply overloaded!

I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser. About this time, the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed part way, he began hissing in my face! I am quite sure my screaming changed in intensity. I had little effect on the squirrel, however.

The RPM’s on The Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment) so her front end started to drop. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 MPH, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrels tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet.

By now, the screams are probably getting a little hoarse. Finally I got the upper hand … I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time, it worked!!!!……sort of. ..so to speak.

Picture a new scene…You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly, a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 MPH, on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder, roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car!!!!! I heard screams, and for a change, they weren’t mine. I managed to get the big bike under control, and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really…. except for two things.

First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk in somebody’s’ front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver’s seat was standing in the street, and was aiming a riot shotgun at his own patrol car.

So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to ‘let the professionals handle it’ anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me, shooting me the finger…….. That is one dangerous squirrel. And, now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car, but it was all his…………

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn signal, made a gentle right turn off Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And, some band-aids.
 

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Pygmy looking for a new name
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Seen both of those before and they were still good for a laugh.
 

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:lol

I was attacked by a squirl once on my MTB, then a bird while on the TL and another squirl while on the TL all in one day. First squirl most decidely had it in for me - little sucker ran all they way accross a huge field (~75 yards), accross the street, around my friend then jumped onto the back of my spinning front wheel which launched him directly onto my thigh. He proceded to clamp down on my thigh, but due to the fact that I was still cliped in and peddleing he eventually bounced off, only to make a lap around the rear wheel and be ejected quite spectactularly.

Prior to this, on my way to church on the TL a bird made a crazy swooping dive-bomb from the side and impacted dead center of my face sheild. Nearly knocked me silliy and left a smear on the helmet and jacket shoulder but otherwise none the worse for wear (can't say the same for the bird).

On the way home from church I was enjoying the sunny day and an empty twisty road through fairfax station when a squirl jumped (and I mean jumped) out of some tall gras on the side of the road only to land squarely on the arch of my right foot. The impact hurt quite a lot (I was scooting along at ~75mph), initally thought my foot had been broken. The sucker stuck there for a second then bounced off and into the rear wheel where he made a few laps and got torn to shreads. Ended up with a mes to clean up in the back end of the bike and a brusied foot.

Haven't had any animal/bike encounters before or since:O
 

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Pygmy looking for a new name
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I went for a ride with a girl and she noted before the ride that it always seems as if someone on her rides hits a bird. I've never even come really close to hitting a bird. Low and behold, halfway through this ride a bird comes swooping across the road and bounces off the TL headlight.

Now bees are another story. Nothing like romping on the gas getting onto the interstate. I usually romp on it to about 100mph for the acceleration adrenaline and then back it off to cruising speed of about 80mph. About the time I'm about to roll off I see a bee crawling across the INSIDE of my face shield. Not sure how long the skid mark was (both on the road and in my underpants) but I laid heavily on the brakes damn near wrecking my bike to get to the side of the road. Unfastened my helmet faster than I've ever done before and threw it into a field. I eventually retrieved it once I was sure the bee had gotten plenty of time to vacate the helmet.
 
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