So here it is. Your next opportunity to be witty and impress all five people reading this.This photo is an obvious fabrication. If the sheer improbability won't sell you then maybe the artist's name on the tree in the lower left corner can. I found it in an online collection of "funny photos," which it is neither.
But let's suppose for a second that it's straight out of the National Geographic (I've been nominated for membership). Further, let's suppose that Mr. Beaver did it on purpose...and that he left a note.
That's right, the assignment for this contest is to write a suicide note for a beaver. Good Ruck.
Been nice gnawing you.
ReplyDeletedam
ReplyDeleteHaving TOTALLY dominated the last two caption contents, I have decided to opt out of this round only to return, like a Phoenix from the flame, with great vengeance and furious anger, in future rounds. Also, "Nice gnawing you," while punny, is too hilarious. And I didn't want to overshadow its brilliance with something like, say, "Forgive me, Wally."
ReplyDeleteI didn't see this coming.
ReplyDeleteDear Dad,
ReplyDeleteThank you for the many lessons that you have bestowed upon me throughout my life. You have taught me that I am not just a rodent, but that I am the third largest rodent. Your true art of building a dam is one that I hope I have also achieved.
I have helped stop floods and helped in the creation of wetlands. Just as you have always said: “We are only rodents if we think like rodents. We help this land, in spite of the evil ways of man.”
Dad, I have always lived by that philosophy. For that, you are my hero.
But, there is one thing you did fail to teach me Dad. So, this is what I ask of you: Why did you never teach me the angle in which to gnaw the dam trees.
Your loving son,
Bea
Cher Jacque,
ReplyDeleteSi vous lisez cutte finalement le tree bouleau. Le combats entre nous, il est fine. Je ne peux pas porter la dissapointment dans moi le voyez si je me. Suis occupé de ma culpabilité est tombé la descente. Mes grandissant incisires qui coché. Vous un bon ami.
Francois
Marjorie,
ReplyDeleteIf you're reading this then you should know that it was your persistent nagging that led me to take such drastic measures. Your neverending pushing to keep up with the Muckrucks and that ostentatious upstream monstrosity they call a lodge has driven me to this. I've also seen the way you watch him slap-pack mud and sticks with that tail of his. Did you think I didn't know? So yes, it is our tree that I have chosen to die under and that you will find me beneath.
You were, at least a good mother. Take care of the kits. There is money in the old stump by the rock that I was secretly saving. I think Sara is going to need braces in a few years.
Byron
P.S. The tree didn't crush my skull as planned but I am now trapped. If you don't find me first it will be a long slow death..........not unlike our marriage............ bitch.
Can I please win? Pretty please?
ReplyDeleteIn an effort to perpetuate the "idea" of impartiality, Paula will be judging this one.
ReplyDeleteIn that case, I will only accept Helen or myself as winner. Girls rule!
ReplyDeleteJudging by her reaction to the comments that were posted last night, you, Rebecca, are a shoe-in (that's kind of punny considering...)
ReplyDelete