Woodchucks Galore

A.A asks, "Dear Miss Kitty,

Springs are in the heir and I hope this letter finds you in good health and with a reasonable level of joviality.

How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could be you?

May the FSM look upon you kindly,
AA"

Hi, A.A. Thank you for your question, and for the blessing of the FSM. Such things are always appreciated.

But springs in the heir? Ouch! Does Harry know about this? If it's him, I guess he must, but if it's Wills, then he might want to keep alert for some terrible medical emergency that shoots him up the "next in line to rule" list. Cut back on all of that random cavorting and find himself a nice girl to settle down with. Not Pippa, though. Marrying your sister-in-law might have worked in the sixteenth century, but this is the twenty-first for crying out loud. He should be more progressive and marry an American, for instance. *cough, cough* Excuse me.

But on to the woodchucks. Y'all like woodchucks, don't you? And what's not to like? I actually have a friend now with a pet woodchuck which I think is adorable. Oh, wait, sorry. He has a hedgehog. Those are the cute ones. Woodchucks are the ones that spend their days throwing things about, all willy-nilly and such. Silly willy-nilly woodchucks.

I think perhaps the most important thing that we need to address here, though, is why would a woodchuck want to be me? Seriously. You're a woodchuck. You're minding your own business, chuckin' some wood when the mood takes you, maybe having a bit of lunch before a bit of a lie-down. Someone comes up to you and says, "Hey, you wanna trade in everything you currently have going for you so you can become a single white girl who lives by herself and has a semi-crappy day job? She has a cute car, though, and a nice apartment, and some kick-ass friends, but you'll have to start paying her rent and bills and you'll have to clean up after her cat when he has hairballs and stuff. You wanna trade in your life of leisure for bills and cats and cars and jobs and stuff?" What kind of woodchuck would take you up on that offer? A sadistic one, maybe. So I don't think it's too likely that a woodchuck would be me, given the opportunity.

Given the opportunity, though, I might be a woodchuck for a day. In which case, my answer would be "three."

Thank you, A.A. for your question. Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com

Can/May

T.E. asks, "As a writer both un-trained and un-talented, I frequently stumble with the correct usage of CAN/MAY. Please tell me which of the following is correct:

Unicorn tears CAN cure cancer / Unicorn tears MAY cause cancer."

You ask an interesting question, T.E. Under normal circumstances, I would just point out that "can" usually implies the ability to do something, i.e. "I can juggle seventeen jelly beans," or when doubled, it references a rather bawdy dance, whereas "may" usually implies either getting permission to do something, i.e. "May I beep your nose?" or some level of uncertainty, i.e. "I may get liposuction someday, or I may not."

But to bring unicorn tears into the mix makes this a much more interesting question. See, there really aren't that many unicorns left in the world, and they are terribly crafty so it's rather difficult to pin one down long enough to make it cry. And then you add in the fact that they are such beautiful, gentle creatures that anyone who does meet one instantly feels like pond scum for even considering trying to make one cry that modern scientists haven't really been able to collect enough unicorn tears to do proper testing. Which means at this moment, "unicorn tears may cause cancer," is a true statement because we don't know if they do or not. They may, they may not. We don't know.

However, if you look at some older texts, ones from back in the day when unicorns ran free all around the globe and were, in some cases, considered a scourge, you will find many instances where it is implied that unicorn tears do indeed have some sort of mystical curative powers - kind of like Fawkes' tears in "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets." If we take those texts to be true, then it could very well be a true statement to say, "Unicorn tears can cure cancer."

Personally, I think it is a little bit odd to consider that unicorn tears could both cause and cure cancer, which is maybe why we don't see unicorns cry very much - they're too scared of what their own tears may do to them.

Thank you, T.E., for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com