Wednesday, January 26, 2005

A Country Girl's Ob-sir-vay-shun: God Smokes Pot

Driving home from my shift at the special school this evening, I almost had a role-the-truck-and-lose-the-recyclin wreck about sundown. There I was, listening to the radio and feeling kinda peaceful cause I finally got the weight off my feet and cause the sun was just sinking below the trees, when hot damn out of the weeds on the side of the rode waddles the biggest friggin rat I EVER did see. It was bigger than my ol bag-o-house-cat that fills up that butt box three times a week. Good lord, I swerved this way and that, nearly knocked my butt out the tray and my ass out the seat. I mean, I have seen new-tree-uh, those big ol water rats that killed the American dinosaurs back in the golden days, and this thing could of beat one of those monsters in a cockfight ANY day.

I was just starting to scream my prayers to St. Mattress, about how I didn't want to die from giant rat bites, please just take me when the truck rolls over in a dee-sall drenched blazing ball o' glory...then I saw the thing up close. I looked it right in the eyes as I went barrelling out of control past it on the road. The I remembered: it was a POSSUM. Like the one that was hissing behind the dryer one day at my grandma's house and it scared the crap out of me and I ran in and told my 90 year old grandpa and he went out and stuck is double-barrel behind the drier and ---BAM--- blew the thing's nose off and then if finally crawled out and died in the yard but then BABIES started crawling out of a pouch in its stomach like it was some sort of midget kangaroo on acid and then I realized my god that somewhere in the world they probably eat those things, like make tacos out of em or something! Good lord, I will never forget that day.

Whatever the case may be, now I know for sure. God was smoking pot on the day he made possums.

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