On Being a Shaman, Part II

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I was surfing YouTube Tannerite videos. (Don’t ask.) In one of them, some farmers were using Tannerite to thin the local wild boar herd. That got me thinking…

“Y’all keep laying with that Tannerite, you’re going to cause some messed up stuff! You better quit it!”

“What the hell are you talking about? We’re taking care of our hog problem in a humane, thorough manner.”

“Okay, and how many times have you heard your Mom say, ‘When pigs fly’? I’m a shaman, not a rocket scientist, but judging from the stench of burnt bacon and raining pork parts, I’m pretty you just made a whole bunch of pigs fly.”

“Okay, and?”

“The universe has a rhythm to it, you idiots. You say something will happen when pigs fly, it’s almost like you’re making a pyschic pact.”

“That’s stupid as hell.”

“Fine, fine, just remember we had this discussion later. Like when you’re bailing your mother out of jail in a week because she attempted to have conjugal relations with the happily married and very rich former captain of the chess club.”

“WHAT?!”

“Come on, even your Mom admits she was a stuck up know it all in high school who liked breaking people’s hearts.”

“I’m not following how that means I’ll be bailing her out of jail.”

“Oh?”

*shaman mimes catatonic older woman*

“I swear officer, I just don’t know what happened. One moment I was surfing classmates…next thing I know, I’ve tossed some security guy off the helipad and I’m ripping ol’ Horatio’s clothes off in front of an interview crew.”

*long pause*

“The damn hogs are getting out of control.”

“I got it, I got it. I’m just saying, put a roof on the damn drop pen before you shoot, okay? They’ll be just as dead if the blast goes _out_ rather than _up_. Slap some ball bearings around the bait drum and things will still be right as rain.”

Throw some chum

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