27 Apr

Poor, Sad Eeyore

Eeyore is my spirit animal.

Eeyore is by far my favorite denizen of the Hundred Acre Wood. Rabbit? Too high stress. Owl? So pretentious. Tigger? Obvious coke-head. Piglet? Whiny, tiny mammal. Pooh? Just kind of boring. Kanga? Who cares about Kanga?


But Eeyore, no, Eeyore’s my kind of guy. He’s so aggressively depressed that one has to be a little impressed -- Oh hey Christopher Robin, having a warm little day at home? Yeah, that’s totally cool when I’m out here getting covered in snow because somebody stole my house but no, really, you don’t need to help me look for it, it’s just Poor Eeyore’s house, not anything important -- and Christopher Robin’s already three steps out the door.

Which is why, for about nine months, whenever a coworker asked me in greeting how I was doing I would respond “I’ll make it.”

That doesn’t get old, right?


Eeyore has a detachable tail which occasionally gets lost, a distressing thing for him. It’s attached to him with a nail, and I have considered a similar procedure to secure the safety of my hat.

Eeyore’s favorite food is thistles. My favorite food is I don’t eat because it cuts into my drinking budget.

Eeyore is the reigning Hundred Acre Wood League Poohsticks champion. I have no such skills.

But hey, it’s just Brendan, nothing important, don’t worry about it, really.

I just want to go home.

I just want to go home.

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So, what do you think?