BRB. Gotta jam.
I’ve just returned home to Kansas from a trip south to Dallas, TX. One the drive there (and back) we noticed a TON of armadillos on the side of the road.
Within the past ten years armadillos have been migrating north into Kansas. When it first started happening for some incredible reason people would pull over AND PICK UP DEAD ARMADILLOS OFF THE SIDE OF THE ROAD.
Firstly, WHAT THE FUCK. Why the HELL would any person pick up a squashed armored rodent off the side of the road. Seriously, WHAT ARE PEOPLE DOING WITH THESE DEAD ANIMALS.
Secondly, PEOPLE WERE GETTING LEPROSY FROM THE DAMN ARMADILLOS. So, not only were crazy ass people picking up these dead animals, they were getting a fucking skin disease.
That’s all. I’m just seriously questioning people and stuff.
Can you imagine if you were in a spousal quarrel, on the verge of splitting up with your partner forever, and all you had to do was pull out a Snausage?
—Charlie McDowell, Dear Girls Above Me
Upon the recommendation of my best pal, I read Cujo by Stephen King. I’d never read any of his books before (she was quite taken with his work). I read it. AND I LOVED IT.
And I thought I had handled the idea of man’s best friend becoming a savage killer, but but subconsciously I guess didn’t. Because I had a dream last night that was like Cujo.But not really.
I was at my parents house and a rabid cat kept attacking everyone as they tried to leave, so we were fucking trapped in our house. First off, being trapped in a HOUSE is no big deal (especially compared to the book, with Tad and Donna trapped in a broken down car in the sweltering heat of summer, with no phone, no food, and no one to come looking for them). And a CAT is no big deal (especially compared to Cujo, a rabid, 200 pound St. Bernard).
I fear, judging by my psyche, this means I would never survive a real Cujo situation. I feel trapped by a house (and potentially my family), PLUS I feel threatened by a cat (in my defense there is a new cat at work who continually tries to jump on my face/bite me for no fucking reason).
Whatever. I can’t wait to read The Shining yet (and look forward to having dreams about my father-figure coming to kill me).
Replace another fellow’s cologne with grizzly bear pheromones. The next time he strolls through the woods, the poor chap will be lucky to leave with just a bear hug!