But hey... why don't we start off with my being 4 minutes late to work this morning and why that was. I stepped out my door at the usual time (8:15 ish) and crossed the deck , started down the stairs. I halted my descent when I suddenly spied. . . (gasp!) A DEAD BISHOP ON THE LANDING !! Ha, ha,ha, ha…no (click here if you were not sufficiently nerdy to get that one) it WAS a dead something-er-other, but on the second to last stair before the landing. I let loose with a loud exclamation--it was not a cuss-- more like “Uhhh-AAHHH!” or “UUUGH!” or something of that nature. Note below, where I’ve drawn up a handy Microsoft Paint layout of my abode and surrounding premises with an X marking the spot of the mystery carcass.
I don’t know what the thing was. It was grey and white. It looked like a stillborn kitten except it was not , because it was pretty large, taking up most of the step. I just thought it looked like that because it was curled up all fetal-like, it’s hair was kinda slicked back, and it didn’t appear to be too mangled. Of course I didn’t get down all close to it and work my mad CSI skillz on it, that’s for sure. Probably then I coulda reported to you what the f*** it was. This is what I did do… I thought “I don’t have time to dispose of this uhhh..UGH.. whatever… I gotta get to work. I will just rush down , try not to look, hop over that step and get to my car.” Well, in retrospect, I don’t think I’m actually coordinated enough to execute such a move …although we’ll never know because I was unable to take another step. I turned around and went back inside. I thought to throw a paper towel over it, but I don’t have any just now. I quickly snatched up a Walmart bag. There was some crap in it-- receipt, tags-- that I dumped out and intended to drape that over the corpse in lieu of paper towelage. I said to meself “Ah, well, surely it won’t be so bad this time around. I know it’s down there, thus eliminating the element of surprise” Still, I started down with the bag in front of my face,positioned so that it might obscure my view of the grody thing. But I could see through the bag and as I went down the stairs I started to GAG. I spun back around, went inside again and took the inside stairs down to the foyer, into the garage, out the front and around the side of the house to my car.
So that is why I was 4 minutes late for work. The thing is still there, I presume (my Dad guessed it might be a possum, and I guess it might be, though the office brain trust came up with another likely possibility) As nauseated as I am by the carcass, I don’t want to recruit somebody to dispose of it for me. I hate the notion of being such a helpless wuss. Ideally something will come and eat it up before I get home. Or some of its own kind will carry it off into the forest to give it a proper burial. But if it’s there when I return, I will dispose of it.. I’ll wait until nightfall (or dusk at least) because I don’t want to stare at that thing in the bright light of day again. And I’m thinking the perfect implement would be one of those long snow rakes, the ones you clear snow off your roof with, so that I can do the job from 10 or 15 ft away.
We hypothesized at work that the office chupacabra killed one of my landlords’ cats. My landlord does have cats. One is black, and I know they have more than one, though I am unsure of the exact number. They might have a gray & white cat. The mystery carcass was about cat-sized. Also, Robin and I have long talked about the chupacabra that is hiding away somewheres in our office, skulking around after hours when no ones about, making mischief , perpetrating various misdeeds and what not ( which is more the M.O. of like a sprite or a brownie than a chupacabra, but we just substituted a chupacabra because, well, they’re just innately funny, ain’t they??) Anyways the theory grew that the chupacabra was sick and tired of hearing me slander him all the time, and grew to really have it in for me. Well somehow, he found out where I live--perhaps I left a piece of mail lying around ( a not implausible situation, as mine is not the tidiest of cubicles) And he went to mi casa last night and killed what he thought was my cat. And left it on my steps as like, y’know some sort of symbol of vendetta or something. Note also the unmangled state of this victim --consistent with the condition of virtually all chupacabra prey.
One might presume that I dislike this theory. Certainly the notion that I am being stalked and menaced by a rogue chupacabra does not cheer me. However, if this is the case, my landlords will probably clean up my steps without my needing to ask for it (y’know with them wanting to bury their dead cat and all..). So yeah, in that regard this wouldn't be a bad scenario.
We truly do have a running gag in the office about chupacabras. Which is why I took special notice of this news story of a week or so ago, and I M ed Robin a link to it at once. Now clearly this is no chupacabra. Being the expert amateur chupacabra affiniciados that we are, we determined that right away. Heather said it looked like a dingo …I agree…like a dingo that was shaved, then died of consumption, and then rotted for a spell. But it couldn’t be 100% determined what the critter was…it sure was nasty…and this crazy TX bitch thought it was a chupacabra. And THAT is what really amazed me in this story---this nut job lady. She finds, on her ranch, an odd carcass of indeterminate species, that she comes to believe is a chupacabra . So, the normal course of action here is to ..STASH IT IN YOUR FREEZER. Huh?? And at some point afterwards, she beheads the bastard!! She is photographed holding the noggin in what I sure as hell hope is her ranch laboratory sink, because if she’s put that severed head in her kitchen sink then…Ewww EW!! I don’t care how stainless my stainless steel was, I would never do dishes in that f-er again!!
Speaking of dingos (flimsy segue in progress here...forgive me) someone in casa de landlords plays the mo-fo DIDGERIDOO!! Yes on two separate occasions I have been coming up the back stairs and heard, through an open window, someone within the big house playing the didgeridoo. Now I didn't learn the didgeridoo whilest living amongst the Aborigines (primarily because that didn't really happen). We actually had the didgeridoo come up in casual office banter one day and then that sparked a lot of questions--what exactly does the didgeridoo sound like? how does one play it? how is it spelled precisely? And the crew used their marvelous net research talents and we were able to scrounge up some online audio of said instrument, and a little write up (probably courtesy of Wikipedia) on it. So yes I do know for a fact that it WAS a didgeridoo I heard. Twice! Not sure who was playing it, but I'm guessing it's the same one that I often hear playing the recorder. Yeah, one of 'em plays the recorder a lot which I thought was a bit lame and 3rd grade-ish. But the didgeridoo...that's downright BIZARRO. Don't get me wrong, I AM a music lover. And I wish I could capably play some sort of instrument---not the didgeridoo. Here is a list of top 5 instruments I wish I were skilled at (#1 being the most coveted, counted backwards for purposes of maximum suspense)
Speaking of music (I can't quit the lame segues -I'M SORRY!) I found this neat-o site called Songfacts that has a decent sized directory of tunes and for every song it gives lyrics, and then some facts about the song (usually something about what inspired it or what the lyrics really mean, somethin' like that) and then there's message boards. It's a user -maintained site, so it's got credibility akin to that of Wikipedia, but I'm sure not all the "facts" on there are bogus. I looked up "Say it Ain't So" which is probably my favorite Weezer song (I do love me some Weezer) and the Songfacts.com explanation made sense enough to me. "This bottle of Steven's awakens ancient feelings" Always thought that was such a cryptic line, but I am puzzled no longer...
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