Missives from the mildly mad
Thank God someone has taken up the cause of weasels.
For too long now, I have lived under the accusatory appelation of being "a weasel". There I was, a poor government bureaucrat just "doin' his job" (that's government technical jargon), and a member of the public leaped to his feet during a public information seminar and accused myself and my fellow panel members of being, yes, that's right, WEASELS.
I had little time to formulate a reaction, for this epithet was swiftly followed by a more targeted one, thankfully directed at another member of the panel and not at me, accusing him of being, and I quote here: "the NUMBER ONE WEASEL".
Now doubly taken aback, I was unsure whether to respond, or to inquire about this new-found information regarding the social structure of weasel colonies; i.e., that there is a No. 1 Weasel, and presumably a sequence of higher-numbered (lower-status) weasels.
At any rate, I have been searching for reedeming social qualities in weasels, in the event that my soul-searching should conclude with the finding that I am, perhaps genetically, a true (as opposed to ferret-like imposter) weasel.
Hurrah for Weasel Central. I would like to be listed as a charter member; however, being a true weasel (in spirit, if not in fact), I am refusing to send in my membership dues. Perversely, I suppose that REALLY qualifies me for membership.
That's all.
Ray (the Weasel)