Fortunately, I came prepared - pretty sure that somewhere between the mild dehydration and heatstroke I had a very convincing hallucination of a rat telling me that this sort of thing was going to happen.
He - at least, I'm pretty sure it was a he, and I'm also reasonably sure one can still legally misgender rats without significant repercussions - said to me "William," (which is interesting, because that's not my name) "William, the world has gone absolutely mad. Absolutely, thoroughly, running mad on all levels."
From there, it devolved into a lengthy polemic on the virtues of sand and why I should stay in the desert. It was certainly a tempting argument, made more so by the rat's comprehensive mastery of rhetoric, which he wielded with all the grace and power of a drunken hobo clutching part of a broken old boat oar, and scowling - fiercely - but I avoided the worst of it by bashing him flat with a stone.
Then I cooked him up.
And at him.
That rat is a part of me now - they say that one is what one eats, after all. By consuming the creature, I have gained its powers, and its wisdom. My abilities to forage for berries and nuts, as well as to avoid large predatory avians have never been more keen, more honed . Not to mention that my fundamental connection to the world has been strengthened in ways that effete city-dwellers can never comprehend.
Everyone should kill what they eat.
This is why I nominated you.
On one hand, I kind of want to file a formal complaint somewhere about all of this.
On the other hand, I really want to enjoy my last two days off without having to deal with I-can't-believe-it's-not-bureaucracy.
On the gripping hand, I'm really not a person who should be awarded, rewarded, or afforded any degree of consideration by anyone. I'm a completely unhinged asshole, not to mention a bad influence.
Without your bad influence, I may never know a good one.
(post is archived)