posted on Mar, 12 2013 @ 07:42 PM
I have been a wily coyote for a very long time, well as long as I can remember anyway. I have suffered a lot of head trauma in my life so my memory is
not so good anymore. I have often been accused of being accident prone but in my line of work injuries are to be expected.
You might wonder what it is that I do. I chase a road runner, a very fast road runner. I may have forgotten why I chase it, but I do. I do live in the
southwest of the United States and there is not a whole lot of food to be had. I have never been successful in catching this road runner so I don’t
even know what it might taste like. I have heard it tastes just like chicken, whatever that is.
I have been laughed at all of my life. Even when I fall off cliffs, or have anvils drop on my head I am laughed at. Thank God for the Acme Company
and their low prices. I would not be able to keep up my
quest if I had to order stuff from Sears.
I saw a shrink for a while who wanted to put me on medication. He diagnosed me with Obsessive Compulsive Destruction Syndrome and he feared that it
might lead to my destruction. I told him not to worry because God always resurrects me and draws the next chapter of my life.
You probably wonder if it hurts when I fall off cliffs or get crushed under heavy objects. The answer is only my pride gets hurt. Not even my ink gets
smudged. At least a cloud of dust or smoke usually hides my appearance from others.
However there are days when I do despair and wonder why I have to always play the stupid one. The only thing I can think of is that the road runner
must have connections. I mean, he even has a car named after him named the General Lee. Sadly, there is no coyote car.
Isn’t wily suppose to mean I should be cunning and skilled. So why does God mess with me so much. Am I in my own hell? What character was I in a
previous cartoon? I have heard that if I am good and work hard that someday I may go to Disney Land and have a chance to chase around little mice and
fat little pigs.
Until then I will keep chasing this road runner and keep wishing upon a star. They say it doesn’t make a difference who you are. I heard that from
a little cricket just before I ate him. Hey, I am getting hungry out here. My stomach is growling, of course that could just be some bad ink.