You never know what you'll find - humor, ramblings, rants, randomness- it's all me! |
This will make more sense if you read this first: http://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/788036 But it's not a requirement to be able to enjoy my misfortune. I know I can be a little sarcastic, maybe even self-involved at times. I'm not a good house cleaner. I may have in 'good humor' (wink wink) threatened to put a curse on some students. Not a deadly one mind you. Something more like this: "In ten years when you are down on your knee with a diamond you bought but couldn't afford, and propose to the woman of your dreams, may she laugh so hard at you and the thought of a lifetime with you that she squirts wine out of her nose, literally squelching your dreams, pride, and self-confidence" Innocent things like that. But even with all that being said, I think Karma is being completely unfair and maybe is just bias against people who have the summer off - I know I'm reaching, but HELL! AGAIN, IT HAPPENED. A dead possum in my back yard. This was not how I/b} planned to start my summer vacation! You have to understand I am not wired to take care of things like this. I don't even really like being in the backyard unless I'm in the pool, much less getting a dead mini monster out of it. Actually, it wasn't that mini - it was a good ten pounder. I know, because I recently carried in a 10lb bag of potatoes. Luckily, the shovels were right where I dropped them last year when I had to do this - TWICE! (I didn't bury it; that's what I use to pick it up with - you know, possum tongs) Some people have said I should be glad the dog killed it. I don't get this. I'm perfectly fine with letting it live and run into either neighbor's yard. Come to think of it. Couldn't it even have made an effort and slinked to their yard trying to get away, making it through the crack in the fence to have the courtesy to die on their property. Seriously, spread the possum love. Show your fighting spirit. What's even weirder is I had a premonition that this was going to happen, but I talked myself out of it. I was like 2 summers in a row cleaning up animal carcasses - surely not. I convinced myself I had been better this year leaving some of my evilness behind. Oh, the lies we tell ourselves. Just like Ponyboy in The Outsiders - I lie to myself all the time. But I never believe me I love the character, but I gotta say that he's just not trying hard enough, because I lie to myself all the freaking time and believe it. I'm pretty sure that's how I make it through each day, or at the very least convince myself to get out of bed. I feel an impromptu poem coming on. Absolutely no thought is going into to this so please don't judge - well, you can; I really don't care - wait, or am I just lying to myself? Possum, oh Possum What the freaking Hell? Would it help you escape if my dog wore a bell? Your fur is definitely the worst of any species; I think I'd rather dispose of elephant feces. Possum, oh Possum Why must you only die when I'm home alone? and my only recourse is to cry on the phone . . . to a son whose only concern is his flippin' dog that lays around pouting like a bump on a log. She, the dog, had to know I wouldn't be proud - killing animals on my watch is simply not allowed. Possum, oh Possum I suppose since you die you have it a little worse than me, but, please oh please, tonight grow a pair and at least try to flee! I should be relieved that at least your dead, now please have a soul and get out of my head! Come on, Karma, face me like a man! (or whatever you are considered) Needing animal intervention therapy, Ralls
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