cklarock

Many of the folks who come by this page regularly sent birthday messages or presents to Sophie this week. You helped make her birthday a great one, and made her smile many times over. Thank you for that.

You are a reminder that despite the bullshit that goes along with being naked on the intraweb, there are a (metric) fuck-load of outstanding human beings that come to this site. You are one of them.

And I know deep in my heart that if it were my birthday, you'd do it for me*.

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Update: Apparently, our mouse wasn't that special after all. I no longer think that he is a commando ninja mouse. Now I think he might have just been a devil-may-care whisker-twirling, jet-setting international jewel-thief mouse; a little brown Pink Panther who couldn't let an opportunity go by to test his skills against a set trap-- he may or may not have even eaten the peanut butter.

I bet his nest was littered with little lumps of dried-out peanut butter, licked once in order to count-coup, and then tossed aside as the little guy plotted the Next Challenge.

Parachutists say that it's not the first 500 jumps that are likely to kill you, it's the ones you make after jumping out of an airplane has become a routine where you are really at risk.

I don't know how many traps he'd bypassed in his short life, but sometime earlier this week he went a Trap Too Far.

Respice post te, SuicideGirls.com, mortalem te esse memento.

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(*If I were the hottest woman on the site.)