The Day The Squirrel Went Berserk

First of all, let’s talk football.


It’s 1:50 pm on a Sunday afternoon right now, and RG III is right smack dab in the middle of a suckfest.  I haven’t watched any of the game, but his stats at this point in the 3rd quarter aren’t necessarily giving my a warm fuzzy that Monkeys & Footballs are going to beat Anal Seepage this weekend.


Going forward, I will not discuss fantasy football here on TharpSter.Org.


I’ll discuss religion.


I’ll discuss politics.


Fantasy football is off the table.


Anal Seepage indeed.


A few years ago when this website was barely a month old, I, like the rest of the world, encountered a squirrel who had crashed his way into a vacation photo.


Soon after that, a cursory search of Google Images revealed that the Crasher Squirrel had been on a whirlwind tour crashing his way into all sorts of photo ops and other notable events.


The little fella even crashed a trip I took with Junior one weekend when we went to Dallas to see a concert and visit the place were JFK was shot.


Well, little Crash has been pretty quiet lately.  I haven’t seen a whole lot of him in a over a year.


The disappearance appears to have been short lived though.


Just today, I ran across the latest arrival of our little buddy in a display of arrogance only befitting that of a candidate seeking reelection.

Randy Tharp

TharpSter is a husband to one woman, a father to two kids, a master to two dogs, an occasional cubical occupant, and unable to make up his mind on an adequate theme for this website.

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