As promised, the winner and honorable mentions in the Wombat Thoughts contest. Native species, as is appropriate since it’s her photo, judged the contest. Corey–email me and let me know where you want the City of Saints and Veniss sent and how you want them personalized. Thanks to everyone for their entries.

WINNER

Corey Redekop:
Mmmm…buttered toast.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

GlenH:
Is this what zero qravity feels like?

Hairball:
“I’ve got something in my pocket (1) that belongs across my face–
I keep it very close at hand in a most familiar place.
I’ll bet you couldn’t guess it if you guessed a long long while–
So I’ll take it out and put it on: It’s a great big Wombat (2) smile.”

(1) Unless this is a boy wombat, in which case, no pocket, all bets are off. For my purposes, girl wombat, although everyone else has assumed a male marsupial. I like to say “marsupial.”

(2) Normally a “Brownie” smile, “Brownie” being a type of Girl Scout. But this particular wombat is so happy because she’s escaped from the Brownie troop that was holding her hostage and parading her around from house to house in a desperate bid to drive up cookie sales in a bad economy. One of the over-eager Brownie moms stole her from a local zoo, put a little khaki beret on her, and a sash with merit badges. Said mother also named this poor wombat “Sally Ann.” Sally Ann (since we don’t know her real name) shucked her ersatz uniform after running into the familiar-smelling eucalyptus landscaping in some godforsaken California housing development. Wombats aren’t known for their mad running skills, which explains why Sally Ann is taking a well-deserved rest. She’s in, as Kate Bush would say, The Dreaming.