Bipolarity and Possums

Megan Fox's Plastic Surgery

You know, you can learn so much from your favorite celebrities. From Oscar de la Hoya we learn about the torments of alcoholism; from Javaris Crittenton, the perils of packing; and from Megan Fox, how to deal with all kinds of adversity.

It's been hell for the "Transformers" star recently. First, all that plastic surgery, then the profound trauma of discovering that her idol, Marilyn Monroe, was bipolar and now she's been fired from "Transformers 3" for that Hitler remark.

You're right, a big superstar like Megan can always find more work.   Especially now with her new Angelina lips. But how is she possibly going to recover completely from that revelation about the bipolarity of her doppelganger? It was so devastating for Megan that she actually had Norma Jean's tattoo removed from her right forearm just to avoid Marilyn's "negative energy." (She has 8 other tats.  If  there's one of Amy Winehouse hiding just below her decolletage,  it's OK because  Dr. Tattoff is only a phone call away).

Following Megan's every move in Glitterati Gossip, we suddenly  realized  that we too idolize a captivating blond whose  name begins with "M"  and has got to be bipolar!

Mariaceasarea---"Cicci"to her close friends---is by day a sweet, exuberant and bouncy extrovert who's never met a stranger.  

But by night she morphs from happy Jekyll into hideous Hyde. Gone are the effervescence and playfulness that we all love.   In stake out mode on the back patio Cicci becomes  a weapon of mass destruction, a murderous OCD sentinel scanning the perimeter for any sentient being unfortunate enough to venture onto the property.        

The moment  creatures scamper across the top of the fence she launches a full scale attack, no quarter given, none asked.     Taken aback by the  ferocity of  the little  23-pound loca frothing at the mouth 5 feet below them, they pause momentarily to miscalculate her NBA-caliber vertical leap. An instant later she has taken them to ground where she shakes them violently by the throat and then the quiet of another evening  is again sundered by the sounds of crunching bones.

Her kill list includes bugs, birds, rodents of all varieties----well, maybe no agoutis or capybaras as yet---huge raccoons  and, perhaps saddest of all, several members of the doomed Daryl and Diana Deathwish possum family.

"Dennis didn't return? He'll be back soon enough. YOU go for the figs tonight, Desdemona.   No worries.  Any problems, just remember, darling: you're good enough, you're smart enough and doggone it, people like you."    Watching possums in action you realize why self esteem might be an issue and how essential these  maternal pep talks must be.

"Good enough?" Fair enough.  Most possums obediently follow the Possum Defense Mechanism Training Manual to a fault.   As for the possum's IQ and popularity however, just look at the recent Pew study showing plummeting possum approval ratings.   Most respondents consider possums stupid and icky.  So dire is the situation for the few remaining possum supporters that they have felt compelled to form the Opossum Society of the US  to bolster the image of the species.

Spokespersons for the Society emphasize that THE POSSUM IS NEITHER DIRTY NOR STUPID. You wonder how compelling this platform could be although I suppose Karl Rove could do worse, "Vote for Rick Perry Possum. He's not stupid, he's not dirty."

Rick Perry Possum

"Dirty?"  I have no issue with the animal's personal hygiene.   "Dirty" would be a warthog thrashing about in an Okavanga mud wallow. The possum would be more like the medieval French marquis who  bathes only once or a year and  hangs his formal dinner attire in the loo (a one-holer high in the northeast turret) to discourage moth infestation.   You'd simply want to keep your distance from him at the castle's spring equinox feast.

The supposed intelligence of the little quadruped is however  quite another matter.   Take Rick Perry Possum, the largest and darkest possum to swagger into the killing fields recently.   Rick did not believe in either evolution or intelligent design.  Rather he adhered to the principles of unintelligible design.     When Cicci first lunged at him Tuesday he froze, "This could be serious.  I'm a traditional guy so I'll  just do what my people have always done in stressful times since the time of the dinosaurs:   nap time!"   I shooed him away.

But Wednesday he was back.  Sadly this time Cicci picked him off the top of the fence whereupon he once again played morto.    Moments later his sleep became that of John Cleese's Norwegian Blue parrot:  the slumber of a deceased possum, a possum who was no more.

 What a Sane Soft Coated Wheaton Terrier Should Look Like

Mini-Wheat Cicci by Day

Mini-Wheat Cicci by Night

I guess God just needed another little angel in possum heaven.  But we have to do something.   What would Megan do?   Cesar Milan's phone number must be here somewhere.