Jungle Festivities

Soon I will be having a birthday picnic.  

We will lounge on soft blankets & eat my favorite foods: villagers & durian.

But sometimes I have unpleasant birthdays.  Sometimes it rains.

Sometimes nobody comes & I cry.

But sometimes, worst of all, everything goes wrong.

Wrong:

It's my birthday!  I am not the gift!!

Wrong:

I am the tiger!!

But every once in awhile, everything goes just right.  

Correct:

Happy birthday to me.

the tiger cub blog recession special, part ii

sometimes things get ugly



or kind of shitty.



sometimes you want to just sleep for days & days, hoping you'll wake to find that all the unpleasantness was just a dream.



most often, you'll wake to find that it wasn't. that's when you have to take desperate measures. you may have to do some things you don't want to do.



you might even have to whore yourself out. i did.



& now i make my durian money



by writing about tiger underpants. again. but a job is a job & it might not be long before something better comes along. meanwhile, i can keep myself in durian & jungle rent. knock wood.

the tiger cub blog recession special

until yesterday, my job was: to be cute.




















then i received some terrible news. it was rather a surprise.



i was laid off, a victim of the poor economy. me! at first, i cried



and then i cried some more.



but then i pulled myself together. it was time to find a job. i would look high



and low



for a job that would be perfectly suited to my tigerness. but as i searched the tiger cub job market, something terrible became painfully apparent. there were a lot



but a lot



of other tigers, all just as qualified. i had to get creative. here are the ideas i have had.

i could freelance as a monkey.



i could sell cuddles.



i could participate in paid cuteness experiments.



i could become a prize fighter.



or i could hire myself out like a fuzzy version of gérard de nerval's lobster.



but nothing is working out. if you can think of any tiger cub jobs, please send them my way. i would like to keep my striped dignity & stay out of the milk kitchens



unless it is really good milk.

lunch

being weaned off of eating villagers & missionaries is not easy. look how delicious:



but the bear cub is trying to help me. he makes me lunch every day. instead of villagers



he packs me carrot sticks



& instead of missionaries



he prepares for me delicious sandwiches.



but still sometimes i miss durian, & pouncing on plump little children, & dropping out of trees onto unsuspecting missionaries. & that's when i feel anxious & i cry.



& but the bear cub understands. he climbs up into a tree



all the way to the good honeycomb at the top



& comes down again & makes me honey on toast. & sometimes special milk.



& then i feel happy again. & i fall asleep.

more on durian, or why it is so great to be a wild animal

durian smells to some like shit.
















to others it smells like vomit.




















in fact, because of its distinctive odor, it has been banned from many public spaces.



















this is short-sighted. durian is delicious for two reasons. first, the flesh of the fruit is delicious. it is excellent on its own. or, like me, you can use your paws to bake durian cake.














durian is also delicious because fallen durian, as i have said, attracts villagers. villagers are delicious like durian, but they are not sweet. they taste sort of like pork. pork & cotton.

















so i do my best to help cultivate durian & promote its healthy growth. whenever i eat durian, i eat it whole, pit & all. then i stalk far from the tree to poop in another region. there, the durian tree, nestled in its warm & fertile pile of tiger cub poop, grows roots & thrives.















& but sometimes it's just more fun to chase a chicken until it collapses. & then i eat it. & then i feel free to poop anywhere i choose.

here is where I used to live.

















i used to wait for durian to fall from the durian trees.















then a villager would come to pick up the fallen durian.




















i would pounce on him & eat him. it was the same, day after day.















now i live here, in this bear cave.















with a bear cub















who is very small & very sleepy.



this is what it's usually like.















instead of pouncing on durian, i pounce on balls of yarn.



















& instead of eating villagers, i eat honey.

















but really you could call me a flexitarian.
















i still like missionaries.

eye of the tiger

delicious.



& then they ate her.