THERE IS A MUTHAFUCKIN SNAKE IN THE GARAGE.
As I headed out this afternoon for a day of sunny shopping and ice tea sipping with a friend, I almost stepped on a snake. A long snake. At least 2 feet long coiled up and pissed off looking, so god only knows. I ran/hopped/skipped/jumped (or whatever I do when I move away in fear) to the garage keypad and tried to close the door before the snake got in, but I trapped it half-way. My dad’s friend, who also happens to bake great bread, shoveled it away for me. He thought it was poisonus so he hit it with a shovel for 10 minutes to kill it.
I feel strangely vindicated because no one seemed to appreciate how freaking big this snake was, instead people seemed to enjoy laughing at my fear. Dad’s friend thought it was huge. Even the police officer laughed at me and then JUMPED away from dying/dead snake when he saw it.
Things that live on land and do not have legs. It’s not right. It’s not natural.
