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Hi all. Sorry I haven't been diligent in keeping up with my blogs. Real Life happens.

I have a big confession to make. It's pretty awful, and I'm not proud of it. So please, if you're not sitting down, well you should be.

Here it is:
I've had a secret desire to see Wile E. Coyote catch the Road Runner. Just once I'd like to see him get the little bugger and eat the bloomin' bird. I always cringe each time I see Wile E. cook up another brilliant scheme, knowing full well the plot is destined to backfire. It erks me to know that no matter how clever the Coyote's plans are, the smirking little Feathered-brain always seem to come out on top in the end. How is it that a mad genius (and obviously higher-placed in the food chain) never get to taste phesant? Oh, I'm upset just thinking about it!

It's really not fair. It says to me that no matter how smart a person is, he's never going to succeed, because in the end, it is the smirkingly crafty ones that make it in life. Just think of the times Wile E. set a trap using food. It doesn't matter how elaborate the setup, Road Runner always get away with eating it without reparation. You know what that's like in real life? It's like you trying your hardest at work, only to see the brown-noser at the other end of the cubes getting the promotion.

Conventional wisdom says that Wile E. Coyote was the bad guy, while the Road Runner the saint. In all honesty, that's not true at all. Natural selection dictates that the smart ones outlast the dimwits. So why are there episodes where it ends with the Road Runner chasing down poor old W.E.C. with a bus, trying to run him over?! How demented is that? Fine, you got away with being caught, why try to punish him more? That's like our brown-noser getting the promotion, and then sticking you with all the work just because you too, had inclinations of trying to get the same position.

So, Wile E., hats off to you bud for trying your darnest in life. You may never get to use your recipe book for cooked bird, but at least you'll always have my respect and my support in your future endeavors. Salute.

.... A toast then, "May that foul chicken one day be the fowl on your table."

posted by losir at 12:22 AM