OH MY GOD. Gary Eaton is the most evil person in the world. Get this, he emails me today and says my blog is boring and I can be much more controversial than that. Ok, so he's right to some degree, but I am mellowing as I age. Gary just turns more into Howard Stern every day.
So, I sadly admitted to myself that I just don't have it in me to be mean anymore, that I am such a caring, loving person. My Girl Scout Troop is running a supplies drive for the County Shelter. We love....everything and everyone. Then damn Gary has to jinx me.
You know what happened tonight? Remember my freaking dog trying to get in the house at 2am with an giant ostrich leg in her mouth? Well, this is worse. I SO prefer body parts now. I wasn't even that freaked out by Luke, the Dog Who Lived, running around playing with a Girl Scout on my front lawn last week with a chicken foot, leg, and thigh in his mouth. He did not get it from the kitchen. The neighbor would hate us if he knew. I figured I can handle a lot. The stupid cat brings in mice nonstop, and we have rescued the same mouse 3 times in one day (I finally got smart and made Chloe bring it across the street to the neighbors yard) and several mice this month. I have never even noticed the dead ones that John finds on the floor. But now my nonchalance has been decimated. I can never walk in my house again, I will have to walk from sofa to chair to bed. I am sure you can guess why.
I was strolling from the kitchen to my sofa, quite proud of my knee's ability to actually work these days, and all of a sudden, SNAP! CRACKLE! POP! I stepped on a fucking mouse!!!!! I did not KNOW I stepped on a fucking mouse until I jumped off the soft "dog toy" that I had stepped on, and saw it was a real DEAD mouse!!! FUCK!! I leaped into the air, landed on the couch on my knees (my knee did not like that much) and screamed into the pillow like 3 Muslim men were stoning me to death. (Actually I would not scream, I'd give them the finger and then masturbate with it. That'd show 'em who's boss)
So, back to the dead mouse. It WAS alive, according to John. He said the neck would snap even if he was dead, and the crackle of the other bones would too, but the POP with the ejection of 50 gallons of mouse blood would only happen if it was alive. You might think the worst part of stepping on a mouse (IN MY SOCKS) would be knowing that you killed it.
Nope. I am ticked off that it's damn popping blood spurted on my cute, girly white with pink accents bobby socks that are so soft and comfy. And when I kicked them off, there was blood on my feet! I begged John to clean it off, keeping my feet as far away from myself as possible. He got me a wet cloth and made me wipe it myself.
I am thinking my solution could be to put mouse traps out all over the back yard. Then at least I would have shoes on when I blow their brains out with my foot.
Oh, I am going to have nightmares tonight. I really want to cut my feet off. They are diseased now. I hate animals. All of them!!!
1 comment:
Mary,Mary so sensitive are you although I admit to being a touch callous.
I simply said what other people didn't but wanted to. Lisa the Brit...yawn...medical stuff...yawn...I can be mean...yawn.
Blogging about stuff specific to you is like people who jabber about their kids all the time. Why would I want to hear about your kids? Why would you want to hear about mine? I have three, and I like them I guess. but other people's kids...not so much. I'm not mean to them, and I won't let anything happen to them, but they're not related to me so they're less cute, less interesting, and less likely to succeed. They're like farts. Mine are ok and I'll flap the blanket to catch a whiff, but other people's are gross.
I am counting on you to address topics we're all related to, those day to day experiences we can all read and say..been there. You're as horrible as I am so I know I can rely on you to honestly discuss those moments that make you chuckle or drive you crazy, and knowing your taste in friends, the rest of your readers will connect with that as well. You attract the twisted and warped in society and bless you for it.
You're much closer with the mouse thing. Who hasn't killed a defenseless animal? I've left a pet cemetary or two behind. Like we haven't all flushed a fish to a better life.
My buddy Brian killed his 4 yr old's hampster with a shoe, just awake, groggy, thinking it was a mouse. His daughter is a little Cindy Lou Who look alike and he carried the little crushed body into her room, bracing for the tears and trembling lips from his angel. She looked at the little corpse, looked up into her Dad's eyes and said, "I never liked him much!" and turned around.
Other people's kids...not so much!!!
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