Anyway, 10:30, the other night, I go out in my yard, and there's
the Worker kid, looking up in the tree. I say, "What are
you looking for?" He says "I'm looking for my burrow owl."
I say, "Jumping Jesus on a Pogo Stick. Everybody knows
where the burrow owl lives. In a hole. In the ground. Why the hell do you
think they call it a burrow owl, anyway?"