After I finished with Blazing Saddles last night, I watched a wee bit of the news. There was a short piece on dirty restaurants (yuck) that have a "clean" bill of health, but are still serving food even though the place is infested with rats and roaches (gag).
Note to readers: Don't eat in Florida.
So to bed I goes....into dreamland. Don't really remember the dreams, but I think there were some dirty, nasty little creatures in them.
Cut to me in the morning, downstairs in the kitchen with bedhead, white sweat pants and wife beater. I'm searching for tea and I look down to see what I think is a dime sized piece of dirt? (closer) Balled up huge piece of schmutzy black string? (closer) Smudged moth? (closer) Goddammit! Is that a roach? Do I have fucking roaches now? I just got rid of the ants!! I'm going to give that exterminator a piece of my...(closer).
It's a baby frog.
My mind: "HowcutehowweirdhowtheFdidababytoadytoad
So I glassed the poor slow moving (pretty sure) hungry soul and set him free in the backyard. I wonder if I'll ever see him again.
My Mind: Probablywillgrowbigandstrongand