writing on your everything
Feb. 15th, 2003 09:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
overoceaThe other week (at least two weeks ago), I was walking to the bus stop. I walk to the bus stop often. I shut the front door, checked that it was locked, cut across the garden to cross the road, and nearly stepped on this:
Trust me, it was a lot huger, heavier, bloodier and smellier than it looked. Actually it wasn't smellie yet, but my mind thought it must've been, cause it was dead, so perceived the smell anyway, despite there being none.
I went inside and got some garbage bags. I couldn't just leave it on my lawn. It was somebody's great white pet. So after taking its picture, I struggled for half an hour to get it into a garbage bag without touching it. It was covered in bugs. People drove past every 5 seconds and made a point of scowling at me. I didn't kill it, I don't even have a CAR, I'm missing my bus so I can remove its ROTTING PRESENCE FROM YOUR SIGHT, so FUCK OFF.
I went and woke up my neighbour so he could drive the dead cat & me to the tip. He got all mad & told me to throw it in the garbage can. I said, "I can't sleep at night knowing there's a dead Buddha in my garbage can!"
So, we got to the tip, & waited for ten minutes for someone to come to the window at the drive-in spot. She acted all sympathetic when he told her we had a dead cat, & then told us we had to drive to the tip on the OTHER side of town so they could bury it. My brain screamed, "It's not even my fucking dead cat!" but my mouth smiled & thanked her, the traitorous thing.
Feeling quite guilty at this point, I said to my neighbour "Let's go to YAPS (something beginning with Y Animal Protection Society) instead and see if they'll take it, 'cause YAPS must have dead cats every day." Well, it being 7am or something, fucking YAPS was closed, of course. For my 50th bright idea of the day, I said, "park in that there carpark, cowboy, & pop the trunk." or something along those lines, minus the cowboy part, & I probably said "open the boot" rather than "pop the trunk," but anyway.
I was dragging the dead cat bag out of the boot/trunk, when a big fat lady pulled up out the front and started wandering around, staring at me. Then I noticed we were in the STAFF car park. I rather hurriedly shut the trunk/boot and hauled the dead cat bag over to a nearby dumpster. At this point the big fat lady started marching purposefully over, so I dropped it in and ran back to the car.
That's all.
Just so you know: my cat's name is Buddha. I never say "fuck," I just think it a lot. and when I speak to my neighbour, I stutter & drool 5 times a second, because I never say Anything.
Trust me, it was a lot huger, heavier, bloodier and smellier than it looked. Actually it wasn't smellie yet, but my mind thought it must've been, cause it was dead, so perceived the smell anyway, despite there being none.
I went inside and got some garbage bags. I couldn't just leave it on my lawn. It was somebody's great white pet. So after taking its picture, I struggled for half an hour to get it into a garbage bag without touching it. It was covered in bugs. People drove past every 5 seconds and made a point of scowling at me. I didn't kill it, I don't even have a CAR, I'm missing my bus so I can remove its ROTTING PRESENCE FROM YOUR SIGHT, so FUCK OFF.
I went and woke up my neighbour so he could drive the dead cat & me to the tip. He got all mad & told me to throw it in the garbage can. I said, "I can't sleep at night knowing there's a dead Buddha in my garbage can!"
So, we got to the tip, & waited for ten minutes for someone to come to the window at the drive-in spot. She acted all sympathetic when he told her we had a dead cat, & then told us we had to drive to the tip on the OTHER side of town so they could bury it. My brain screamed, "It's not even my fucking dead cat!" but my mouth smiled & thanked her, the traitorous thing.
Feeling quite guilty at this point, I said to my neighbour "Let's go to YAPS (something beginning with Y Animal Protection Society) instead and see if they'll take it, 'cause YAPS must have dead cats every day." Well, it being 7am or something, fucking YAPS was closed, of course. For my 50th bright idea of the day, I said, "park in that there carpark, cowboy, & pop the trunk." or something along those lines, minus the cowboy part, & I probably said "open the boot" rather than "pop the trunk," but anyway.
I was dragging the dead cat bag out of the boot/trunk, when a big fat lady pulled up out the front and started wandering around, staring at me. Then I noticed we were in the STAFF car park. I rather hurriedly shut the trunk/boot and hauled the dead cat bag over to a nearby dumpster. At this point the big fat lady started marching purposefully over, so I dropped it in and ran back to the car.
That's all.
Just so you know: my cat's name is Buddha. I never say "fuck," I just think it a lot. and when I speak to my neighbour, I stutter & drool 5 times a second, because I never say Anything.
