Monday, May 18

Playin' Possum

So, it is 11 PM, I'm about to go to bed. My dog decides it is time to puke at the back door. OK, let the dog out to eat some grass. Take a piss, then head to the garage to find some cleaning supplies to get the puke up off the tile.

As I'm going into the garage, I happen to look down into the trash can. HOLY FUCK! A possum in the bottom of the trash can. Great now I have two problems to deal with at bedtime.

I don't fucking like possums. They are mean, they carry rabies, they hang upside down in trees. Not a damn thing to like.

Back to the bedroom, put on pants, put on shoes, get the wife to do the same. Grab the digital camera from the family room and head back to the garage.



As you can see from the photos, it is only a juvenile. Great, not in the mood to kill a baby anything tonight. So open the garage door, take the trash can out, tump it over. Fucker won't come out, he is "playing possum". Eventually got him to run off into the night. Kept hissing at me, like he was going to get me some day.



So, now there is a juvenile possum, with a vendetta, running around my house in the middle of the night. Great. I'm going to bed. Fuck Mother Nature.

Labels: , , , , , , ,


Comments: Post a Comment

<< Home

Number of people who will never get their time back from reading this page:
Counters