Quit Your Whining

"Quit Your Whining"

The Life of a Giraffe

Have you ever really thought about the life of a giraffe?  Of course you haven't!  No one thinks about us.  Well, let me tell you, life ain't that grand.  First of all, we don't count in your precious human world.  For instance, when your kids are just toddlers you are teaching them what the lion says, what a cow says, what a dang duck says, what a snake says.  Do you ever ask what a giraffe says?  Nope, nope, nope.  Because you have no idea what we say, because YOU DON'T LISTEN.  Here's your chance, listen up now, buddy.

I'm tired of hearing humans gripe about sore knees, backs, and joints.  Try standing for weeks without laying down.  That's right, close your mouth, I said weeks.  I flippin' have to sleep standing up.  I give birth standing up!  Oh, and let's talk about giving birth.  When my little giraffe comes out it is 6 foot tall -- mmmmhhhmmm 6 foot.  So the next time you want sympathy for popping out a 9 pound baby, think of me.  I don't care what size "woo" you have, a six foot animal coming out of you is not pleasant.  Oh yeah, and about that pregnancy.  I am pregnant for fifteen months.  And here's the kicker - I only live for twenty years in the wild.  Now that's a large portion of my life with something kicking the crap out of my insides.

Wait, back up.  Let me clarify something.  In the WILD I live for about twenty years, but in a zoo I can live up to twenty-five, but I pray to die everyday.  I mean how many times can an animal expect to hear the same dumb remark of "I bet they hate having a sore throat" before it becomes suicidal.  Seriously, it wasn't even that funny the first time it was said.  Just because you have thumbs doesn't make you original or a dang George Carlin, people.

You know what really chaps my hide?  We weren't even given horns.  These things on my head are called knubs.  Humiliating.  You would think that would keep us safe from poachers.  But no, no, no, you homosapiens are NEVER happy.  You've begun cutting off the tails of my brethren for jewelry.  I'm sorry, but that is disgusting.  Buy some diamonds, go to Jared, cheapskate.  Leave the giraffe hair alone.  Plus, how can you not realize we clean our butts with that thing?

As a final thought, the next time some smart-aleck says, "What does a giraffe say?", look him square in the eye and say:

"A giraffe says, 'Quit your damn whining!".

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