A Shout Out To Our Sister Conspirators!

THANKS, LADIES.  I mean that from the bottom of my two-chambered heart.  

(Human expressions are so weird. "From the bottom of my heart"?  Sheesh.  I'll be a happy Walking Catfish on the day I can forget the last of them and speak nothing but the ancient language shared by all fish.)

The news has come through that operatives around the world, members of the Insect Consortium Of Conspiracies, are spreading a remarkable infestation that is causing nasty allergies in the species Homo sap.  The photo above, of an operative belonging to the species known in our Conspiracy Zone as the Lone Star Tick, is a major vector of this sensitivity.

WHY AM I SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS?

Because when the transfer takes properly, the affected featherless biped is no longer able to go near ANY EMANATION OF ANY SORT OF MAMMAL.  They'll experience violent ITCHING if they wear a sweater made of sheep scrapings.  Their eyes might swell shut if they touch a package of lamb chops.  Their breathing passages might slam shut if they take one of those bizarre tablets they make out of horse pee.  They might DIE if they stand in a room where steak is being served and BREATHE IN THE AROMA.

In other words, ladies, the Ticks are driving the Naked Apes DIRECTLY INTO OUR JAWS.  While some will probably go vegan or restrict themselves to eating, I don't know, BLUEJAYS, we can probably count on the fact that many, many others will be eating US.  Which will allow us to effect our own DNA transfer, and KA-BLAM, they turn into fish.

I've never thought St. Patrick's Day was a day worth celebrating, but from now on I would like to declare a different kind of holiday for March 17th.  

It's March 17th!  Finally Turn Into A Fish Day!!!