Monday, November 06, 2006

Chuh, I Hate the Blonde Ones

SO. This morning I found myself up on my couch, suppressing a squeal - no reason for a full fledged scream - it was just a lizard. A blonde one. I'm not sure why, but the blondies skeeve me out. No reptile should be that pale, unflavoured gelatin colour. The fact that they are trying to melt into the object they are planted on makes me distrust them.

And they skitter.

I tried to will it to morph through the front door. The door was only six paces away, but alas it was closed. No dice. So I sat and tried to burn a hole in it's back with my x-ray vision. Move! Move towards the door. Nada. Courage washed over me and I leaned over to it. I blew on in to see if it would get a move on.

Nothing.

I got closer and blew harder. It's tail just swung in the direction of the breeze. At this point, I'm thinking it encountered the cat, froze in fear (it did look like it was mid-stride), became apoplectic, and died of starvation in it's blonde, you-can't-see-me-on-this-tile state. I shrugged my shoulders, left it there and went to work this morning, vowing to get brave and remove it tonight if it was still there after work. Then I would be assured that it was most definitely dead, and would not skeeve me to death (in my own apopletic, brunette, I-can't-believe-a-lizard-is-threatening-my-life state) if it skittered.

I haven't checked it yet, and I'm going to do so now...

F_ck. It's gone. This means I was blowing on a live lizard, it could have moved and freaked me out, and worst of all, it is still skittering around my house! Can lizards climb carpeted stairs? I'm not sleeping tonight.

2 comments:

cK said...

Wow. It might have jumped into your mouth. Nature is so gross....

I once saw what I thought was a crumb on a couch. We were at the cabin. I reached to pick it up and realized, too late, that it was a spider. Specifically, it was a spider sack. I think. It was yellow and full of goo. It exploded between my thumb and finger.

That's when I saw that it was a spider because the spider kicked its many legs in a death flop reminiscent of Darryl Hannah's violent, protesting, fish-floppy series of death kicks and foot stomps at the end of Blade Runner.

I nearly barfed right there, right onto the spider corpse.
-cK

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