Red cross door to door fundraising ruined my nap and I don’t even know if I am allowed to complain about it?
I know I am an adult because I can have elevator-ride-length conversations about the weather.
Crows perch on trees and power lines. I see them in the mornings when I start my car - they strategically move around and squawk at each other. In the fall, I never raked my leaves because I am lazy and it was cold, and the crows know this, so now they lie in wait for the snow to melt. They will descend upon my (and only my) poorly maintained lawn in a frenzy of dark wings. I will have a front yard composed entirely of crows. Neighbors will come outside to do household errands and we will look at each other and I will say, “It was a cold winter, eh?” and they will agree and look for a reason to go back inside.
The crows won’t leave, and over a period of weeks, where, voice raised over the crows, I’ll say to my neighbors “Some spring we’re having!” and “So much rain, right? Probably too much,” I will become convinced that the only way to get rid of the crows is through animal sacrifice.
The time for reasoning with the crows has passed. With the moonlight reflecting off my pale belly, and my toes sinking into cold earth, I will pluck the weakest looking crow from my lawn. At the crucial moment, across the street I will see a pudgy man, mustache and glasses standing in the center of a pentagram. He is wearing a collared shirt and is swinging a tiny lizard in the air.
"Just a low key animal sacrifice, eh?"
I FEEL BELLIGERENT WITH ENERGY. I WANT TO KNOCK DOWN A BINDER FULL OF SOMEONE ELSE’S PAPERS AND WATCH THEM FLUTTER THROUGH THE AIR, even though fluttering papers seems silly in the context of my belligerence. PROBABLY I WOULD HAVE TO KNOCK DOWN THE BINDER and then PUNCH AT THE PAPERS AS THEY FLUTTER THROUGH THE AIR. WHIFFING AT PAGES WITH DUMB FISTS.
Brown on white, I saw a giant mass of shit on my way from the parking lot to an office building. Big enough to be the shit of a man.
A lot of things in my life are within arms reach of my couch.
One day a few weeks ago, my girlfriend found a bunch of coffee ground type things in my kitchen. We were about to eat breakfast. These grounds were scattered all over - in and around where I actually grind coffee beans, on the stove, on a cutting board, inside drawers. They were mice turds. There were tiny teeth marks in the butter I leave out. I had been unknowingly living with mice for a while , and would probably still be living with them if I didn’t spend time with another human being who is functional.
I was embarrassed and left to buy traps and peanut butter. I could probably be trapped and killed by a guillotine baited with peanut butter, because that shit is thoroughly excellent.
Over the next few days, in a clean kitchen, I dumped four dead mice into a garbage can.
I will be less lazy, I thought.
It is February and my christmas tree is still up.
Am I even a human being?
Lunch - 2 leftover chicken thighs, 2 pieces of toast. This was not a sandwich. An apple.
Dinner - A steak, popcorn.
These are the kind of meals that you eat when you give up on wearing pants. But I fucking wore pants today and I probably will tomorrow, so who even knows.
A 60-minute slow motion zoom-in on the talk show host’s hair as the host’s voice is drowned out by industrial noises (drills, saws, hammering) that are occurring offscreen. There are sometimes commercial breaks.
A message for the person in Markham who visited this website for either 0-10 seconds or 181-600 seconds
Please stop using Internet Explorer. There are so many cooler browsers.
Also, person from Markham, here is an inventory of the drinkable things in my fridge:
- 3 beers
- 1/8 a 2L thing of orange juice, expired
- I think a 6-pack of wine coolers that has been in my fridge for a year
Mostly I drink tap water and coffee. On tuesday I used a single-serve coffee maker for the first time since December and it was covered in mould, which is Canadian mold.
Nature week concluded
I was driving around in my old neighborhood after getting my hair cut. I saw that they had built an A&W. I shouted “OH GOD!” And I shouted “HOLY SHIT!” And I shouted “YES!”
It was the most joy I had felt in some time.
Nature week continued, continued
It’s hard to remember a time when they weren’t there. Like, one day you are living alone in an empty house, and the next there is a discovery channel camera crew drinking all of your milk. At first I thought it was a mistake – I am not a school of fish darting in sync across the ocean floor. I am also not a zebra. This could go on and on; I’m not any number of animals, basically. They said they were here to document things, and it was like having this constant background noise – eventually you tune it out.
A voice with an Australian accent, whispering:
Gaze upon our subject as he tentatively approaches the kitchen fridge in his underpants, at two in the morning. Dark. Quietly now, we mustn’t startle him. Can it be? It is! The Anthony is reaching for the ice cream again. Look at that technique – no bowl, he is opting to spoon the contents of the container directly into his mouth. Get back! Give him some space! Look at the expression on his face. Is he even enjoying this anymore? Notice how he returns the container to the fridge, freeing up a hand to scratch at his genitals. We are witnessing some sophisticated behaviour here. He is now on the move; sluggish, confused. He approaches a chair. He is about to sit. Quiet. This is a delicate moment. Once the subject is seated he might not move until bodily functions make it necessary. No, something has changed. Our subject returns to the fridge, this time with a bowl. Wow, the mastery of household tools here is quite impressive. Wait. Is this happening? Yes! The Anthony is returning to the ice cream. Truly remarkable. He empties the container – its contents not even two days old.
One day, having found whatever it is that they were looking for, the crew left.
They were kind of dicks.
Nature Week Continued, or, Feast on Panda Meat
The Toronto Zoo is proud to present its new exhibit, “House Centipedes: The Beauty and Wonder of Domestic Insect Predators”. The exhibit, which showcases two domestic house centipedes flown in from Ottawa, Ontario, replaces their popular panda exhibit, and can be found in the same enclosure.
“People like pandas, but they are kind of shitty animals,” said panda handler Butch Montrose, who added: “They were a bitch to feed, and their vacant black eyes contained not one hint of some kind of animal intelligence.” The Toronto Zoo had the animals humanely executed with shotguns. When reached for comment, the World Wildlife Fund said “Good. I’m glad they’re dead. When those things finally go extinct we’ll be able to change our logo.”
“When we were looking for a replacement exhibit, house centipedes seemed like a natural fit,” said zoo curator Jeffrey Mills. “I saw one in my house for the first time a few weeks ago,” he announced at a press conference. “It was late at night, and hoo boy did it freak me out. I chased it into the dining room, and when I turned on light it I saw it try to hide under a chair. What a smart critter!” Mr. Mills killed the centipede with his shoe, in a motion he mimicked on the podium.
The house centipede, it turns out, is a remarkable creature that attacks spiders and silverfish, and those things are gross. “I had no idea. I just killed it because it looked weird,” Mr. Mills said. “But now I see spiders all the goddamned time. “
So far the new exhibit has not been successful. “I can’t really see them in there,” is feedback our paper has received from one local tourist.
For people who would still like to take in the panda exhibit, it has been moved to the dumpster outside of the Toronto Zoo parking lot.