I’d like to think of myself as possessing above-average intelligence and maintaining a healthy amount of common sense. I got through college and grad school well enough, and I pride myself at being able to spot a grifter from 50 paces– a handy skill around Derby time. But the events of earlier this week have shaken my confidence to the core and led me to question whether I might be more suited for work as a ditch digger, field-hand or, shudder, Governor of Alaska.

You would think I would know what to do when I get a heavily edited picture of raccoon appearing to playfully gnaw on an unidentifiable appendage belonging to a human of the male persuasion. The large yellow blocks prevented me from seeing exactly which appendage this was, but I had a very strong and uneasy suspicion. I also received a message from our own Monday Morning Punter saying ‘click on it, it’s not what you think.’

So what does my dumb ass do?
A) Consider the source and immediately hit the delete button several times as fast as I could; OR
B) “Derrrrr, if Punter says it’s not what I think it is, it MUST be something innocent and wholesome. Duhhh, clicky-click-click. Duhhhhhh.”

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