The life of the urban scavenger is examined in this PBS documentary. This is what my life has become. My youngest daughter came home from college for the weekend, and her birthday is in a couple of days. To celebrate, I thought it would be a great idea if we all went to the cinema to see Pacific Rim. I was vetoed, because no one wanted to watch giant monsters and robots battle for 90 minutes. Why they wouldn't want to do that is mystifying to me. Instead, we stayed home, drank whiskey, ate ice cream cake, and watched a documentary about raccoons because that's fine, and by "we" I mean "I", except I skipped the whiskey.
I was actually going to call the raccoon a rodent, but I don't think that's what they are. What are they? The documentary never says. Hold on a second, and I'll check.
Hmm, apparently they are distant cousins to bears. No kidding. I had no idea. You know, that might have been a topic of discussion in the documentary, as I thought raccoons were rodents.
Then what the heck is an opossum? Are those rodents? Hold on a second, and I'll check.
No, apparently opossums are marsupials, and they're terrifying.
Clearly, a movie about a tornado filled with opossums has to be made.
Someone should get on that, but I'm afraid it might be too frightening for many viewers watching a swirling mass of flying opossums attack people and lay their possumy eggs inside the victims' brains. Gah, I might have nightmares.