Me talking to myself

I’m in this picture and I don’t mind

Me, getting caffeinated enough to finally focus on a task:

I am the raccoon! Give me snacks give me treats!

Out here communicating with myself

I once saw a group of raccoons break into a dumpster. It felt like I was a human in an animated movie about animals. I looked down an alley, saw a bunch of racoons working together to open the lid and then they all froze and slowly turned to look at me. If one of them had started speaking in a stereotypical mob accent, saying something like “Are you having a nice evening? We’re having a nice evening. How about you keep walking and we all keep our evenings nice, huh pal? You didn’t see nothin’.” I would not have batted an eyelid.

Anyway the elites don’t want us to know that we take turns being the possum and the racoon