So the other day I was wearing the only clean thing in my house, which was a beach sarong that’s basically two giant scarves tied around my neck, and it’s super-comfy but at the slightest breeze it flies open to reveal my nipples to the world. This is called foreshadowing.
So I ran some errands and when I parked in front of my house I saw Quiet Asian Guy in his yard and considering how often he’s seen me naked I was mindful to arrange my scarves and exit the car all lady-like and I was feeling very smug about not showing my junk to the neighbor when I tripped on something and practically broke my ankle but I still kept hold of my scarves with a death-grip because I have determination but then I turned back to see what I’d tripped on and it was A GIGANTIC FUCKING SNAKE and this is where I totally lose. my. shit and run into the house with my scarves flying wildly behind me, and I’m screaming at Victor to get a gun and I run to grab a sword and then Victor gets all yelly that I’m overreacting just because I wanted to use a katana to slice up a snake in the street. Because he loves snakes and wants me to die. Apparently.
So we go back outside and the snake is still there but his head is sqwooshed so Victor thinks I probably ran over him with my car when I was leaving which means it was UNDER MY CAR WHEN I GOT IN, like in those emails where the gang member is hiding under your car and he slices your achilles tendon for his gang initiation, except this is even worse because instead of a gang member it’s a snake who doesn’t have a knife so he’s going to have to chew your achilles tendon in half. Yeah. So now you get why I was so freaked out. So then I realized that no one would believe this so I took a picture of the snake but I couldn’t capture how HUGE it was and I needed something for scale so I grabbed some coins to throw at the snake but I didn’t want to get too close because it could be faking death to lull me into a false sense of security. So I’m tossing nickels at it but they’re all bouncing off and rolling away and that’s when I realized that I’m standing in the street throwing change at a dead snake like it’s some sort of performing monkey with an accordion. So I tried a few more coins before I remembered how bad I was at “quarters” in college and then Victor noticed I’d swiped his change bucket and started yelling at me that I’d better be picking that shit back up and of course that was not going to happen so I just kicked the change into the storm drain and walked closer to take a semi-closeup of the dead animal I ran over for you, gentle reader, because I’m a blogger who cares. Would Guy Kawasaki do that for you? (Answer: Probably not because I’m pretty sure they don’t have snakes in California.) And I thought about putting a little tip jar beside the dead snake just to fuck with whoever found him next but I didn’t want to get that close and also I didn’t have a tip jar.
I added the bear and the lightening bolts because the picture didn’t capture just how fucked-up the whole thing was. And that’s why now when I get into my car I have to circle it first, looking underneath it for snakes and then when I get in I leap into it from several feet away just in case a snake is hiding in the wheel-well, except that when I did it this morning I misjudged the height because when I jumped in I totally slammed my forehead into the roof of the car and I panicked because I could feel myself about to fall backward onto the asphalt and all I could think about was how much it would suck to get bit in the eye by the wheel-well snake and so I desperately grabbed the steering wheel and caught it although I did break two nails which sucks but is better than being bit in the eye by a snake.
And also I lost my checkbook. That’s not related to the snake thing but it sucks too.
Comment of the day: See, that’s one of those Driveway Vipers. The squished head with the tire tracks is just camouflage. Its hunting method is adapted for a suburban environment. First, it sneaks into your driveway and plays dead under your car, being careful to avoid the tires. You dispose of the “dead” snake but you’re so freaked out that you start doing stuff like leaping into your car and smacking your head on the door frame. Next thing you know, you’re lying in your driveway with a concussion, at which point the snake returns to chew your Achilles tendons at its leisure. You got off lucky. Your best defense at this point is to start wearing a helmet when leaping into your car. We’re doomed, people. The snakes are out-evolving us. It’s only a matter of time before one starts camouflaging itself as a katana and then you’d be standing in your driveway trying to kill the squished head snake with the katana snake while the Sunday paper snake sneaks up behind you. ~ Steve