A few weeks ago I was poking around among the Chinese stuff on eBay, looking for writing-related items which I buy and sell. I came upon this bronze rat which has nothing to do with writing but was irresistible. I had to have him.
Well, the Rat is the first of the twelve signs of the Chinese zodiac. The large sack he's dragging might be meant to indicate that he's carrying stolen goods - or that he's been displaced by some disaster, with no worldly possessions other than what he could stuff quickly into a sack. There are certainly enough Chinese folk-tales involving rats. Alas, I can't read Chinese, but that leftmost character looks like the one used in the Wikipedia article as the first part of the zodiac Rat's name.
Buying bronze rats online isn't a sign of second childhood, it's a sign of boredom :-)
One of the PD nurses (the pushy one who we weren't all that fond of) was trying to be cute or coy or something once (while being pushy), with Sem. He responded with sharp claws words and a very pointed look. Rather than taking the big hint and realizing that she was pushing her luck backing off she looked at me, burbled with amusement and said to Sem, "Oooh! You're a little tiger!!!"
I did not dare to look at Sem in that moment. I seriously thought he was going to kill her with his bare paws hands. I flicked a look in his direction after my initial gasp, and his eyes were flashing fury. Then he visibly composed himself, and decided to let her live another day.
I thought I'd already told you. She is Temperance, the Testicle RatThe story goes, or so I am told, that during the Bronze Age when a man wanted to marry a woman, he had to give her not only his heart, but also his balls. Literally, in terms of his balls. This tradition (created by a Healer) only lasted a generation or so before the Healer realized that while testicles made excellent meals for his small herd of medicinal rats, there seemed to be quite the decline in population, and it wasn't doing much for the men of the Bronze Age either. He twiddled the bone through his nose, scratched his still-present ballsack (being unmarried but certainly not celibate, he had retained possession of his balls and had also fathered most of the Bronze Age children in the area - a crafty move on his part, creating that tradition while exempting himself from it in order to slake his massive sexual appetite without interference), and had a think about things
( ... )
What we fail to realize here is that rat is actually human-sized and he's just murdered Santa Claus, stuffing his body in his own toy sack. The rat is now looking for somewhere to hide the body. Probably it will be fed to the pigs.
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Buying bronze rats online isn't a sign of second childhood, it's a sign of boredom :-)
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Apparently he's especially auspicious for those born in the year of the rat. I'm a tiger, myself, but I have to admit I'd rather be a rat.
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I did not dare to look at Sem in that moment. I seriously thought he was going to kill her with his bare paws hands. I flicked a look in his direction after my initial gasp, and his eyes were flashing fury. Then he visibly composed himself, and decided to let her live another day.
Love my tiger.
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That's a good tale, anyway, though it does make me clutch my scrotum in a defensive way.
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However, just an observation, that poor rat has such a world-weary look in his eye. Isn't there some Pied Piper relationship here?
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The symbols are yellow/gold the colour, gold the metal, bag. And he is lucky.
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