hidden due to disturbing content.
this morning, i got to church early for service. on the footpath leading from the parking lot ot the church office there lay a dead mouse. and it wasn't just a mouse who had a very good night and died of a heart attack. this mouse would've been cute (as mice tend to be) had it not been for the unfortunate decapitation. now decapitation creeps me out the usual amount, but only if it is clean, insofar as getting your cappa detated is ever clean. the head was not cut off, it was torn off. about a third of the mouse's back skin was shorn from the musculature. if its head was on proper, it would have been face down in a pool of its own blood. i did not take a picture.
anyway. since it was early, i felt it was necessary to dispose of the body prior to kids arriving. now i generally love fuzzy animals, so seeing a dead mouse is no fun. seeing anything dead is no fun. seeing a dead fuzzy something that's showing inside bits is the least fun of all. i saw a dead raccoon behind the church office 'garage' once; it was slightly disemboweled and totally rigor mortised. i ran away like a freaked-out leperchaun.
it took me 3 minutes of staring at it to commit to cleaning it up. i went into the kitchen to search for possibly helpful supplies, preferrably things that would prevent me from making direct contact with the body. i found some work gloves that Art normally uses to mess around with the fire pits. i found a ziploc sandwich bag that looked big enough to hold and seal the corpse. i went back outside to grab a small branch so that i would not have to make contact with the gloves.
i put the gloves on and flipped the sandwich bag inside-out over my left hand. stick in hand, i stood over the poor little thing and spent 6 minutes screwing up the courage to proceed. i formed a pocket with the bag on my hand and positioned it behind the mouse, spreading my fingers wide so that i wouldn't actually have to even feel the body. i lifted the rear of the mouse with the stick and shifted it halfway into the bag. the front stuck to the sidewalk a bit because the blood had congealed. at this point i noticed that the head was still intact and had its eyes been open it would've been looking at me. fully committed, i torqued the body fully into the bag and quickly flipped it to hold the mouse on the inside. then i dropped the bag and silently squealed and skipped away (like a freaked-out leperchaun).
after i had composed myself, i picked up the bag, sealed it and dropped it into the dumpster. the stick i chucked away. back at the sidewalk, i pulled up the hose and sprayed away as much of the blood that i could. there were two patches: one was the original point of attack and the other was the final resting spot of the body. and that was how i started my day.
16.9.07
squeam
21.7.04
well, that was different.
mostly for the benefit of female readers, please be warned that the following is not kosher blogging material and is only written for it's obtuse hilarity. the following is in no way intended to make you sit with a straight face. on the humour scale of class, this is about as low as it goes (right down there with spontaneous combustion due to bowel gas and dropping soap) , thus i will try to spin it as refinedly as possible.
highlight at your own discretion:
you know how sometimes when limbs "fall asleep" you get pins and needles? i had the misfortune of having my penis fall asleep in that very same way as i was sitting. i can only attribute the cause to prolonged penile inactivity.
at first i thought a drawstring was positioned improperly within my shorts, but a quick mental check of the design of my shorts - drawstrings on the outside - spared me the checkup - or checkdown, as would have been the case.
generally the first reaction to any sleeping limb is to massage it awake. i opted for a discrete prod of the narcoleptic organ instead and found it to be oddly unfeeling. curiouser and curiouser.
before i could investigate further, i.e. visual inspection, i felt the urge to empty my bladder. in the process of doing so, the aforementioned sleepy-head (pun very much intended) was wakened and all was right with the world once again.