Wild life

bg_coon.jpgSo recently, I was fulfilling my fairy godmother duty by babysitting for my goddaugter back East, who lives in a house nestled in the woods about an hour from the city. And I trot down to the garage to properly provision the Audi for an outing, and I am practically jumped by a masked bandit. Of the raccoon kind. Needless to say, a girl about jumped right out of her Cosabellas. I immediately notified the parents, who Googled themselves a Wildlife Relocation Expert who promised to lure the raccoon out of their garage and take him elsewhere. I was back in my LA apartment only two days when I trotted down to my own garage to hop in my own piece of German engineering for an outing — and spotted another prowler sniffing around. This one, rather than masked, was wearing sunglasses – but he was also cute, a little scruffy, and — it turns out — also naughty. (eyebrow) He bills himself as a “relationship expert” and runs a website and newsletter on how to “catch a man and keep him.” Meanwhile, back in the woods, my Wildlife Relocator is trying to catch the coon and keep him — a delicate maneuver involving a “Have-a-Heart” trap and open cans of tuna.

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So I’m thinking, maybe the coon guy and I should swap tactics. After all, wildlife is wildlife. The Wildlife Relocator should accept the raccoon for who he is, and not try to make him into another type of garbage-pillaging creature. I, in turn, could carry around an open can of tuna… which would explain why a girl bats a thousand every time she’s eating sushi at Chaya.

I’m just sayin’.

Filed: boys, branding, cali life

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