BigJimsWornOutTires
Kraken
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- Feb 6, 2021
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I NOD at the woman standing in front of my kitchen counter—all 120 pounds of finger licking prime real estate, I assume. She briefly ignored me as she tapped her laptop. "Uh-huh," finally, she uttered. "Yup, I think you did it."
You don't know me, woman. I wanted to say it but didn't wish to open new dialogue, especially something so personal. I'd rather not know myself. "I won't know if I did."
"I can assure you that you did." She sighed. "I find this amazing."
I felt sick to my stomach and wanted to puke my guts on her. But if I did, she would judge me. The fact that she could see only proved what I couldn't see—and what happened when she first arrived, ugh, now that was intense seeing. "Tell me what you see?"
She grunted at the dog sitting next to me, that followed with a smack of her lips. "Let's just say your dog can't see." I felt her eyes wander to my cat in my arms. "She can't see either."
"Zuckerberg is a transgender male," I assured her. Such a cruel person to disrespect a pet's personal preference. So I educated her, "His pronouns are he/him... not her." She apologized.
I wouldn't have invited this hateful woman here if I didn't need the money. Ugh, desperate times, desperate acts. "And what about him?" I gestured with a gentle shrug that caused Sir Lord Bubba Mac Doogle to get excited.
"Your monkey can't see as well," she was certain. "I must be honest with you. I've written many articles about odd situations, and I must say... this is new to me."
I didn't ask what you wrote, woman. I knew she was staring at Johnny on the dresser, I had to know. "What about him?" I nudged my nose in his direction.
"Your parrot, too, can't see. Neither can your snapper turtle, the fish in your aquarium that keeps running into the glass walls, nor your pot-belly pig lying next to your bed. None of you can see."
"I see."
"No, you cannot either," she exclaimed with a sigh. Big Pharma hotfooted under the bed. This lady needs to learn her manners around sensitive creatures.
"Ugh."
"All of you are blind, living together in this filth, and had it not been for the petroleum jelly under my nose, I would have fled here vomiting," she complained, causing her to gasp with exaggeration. "There's shit everywhere, on the walls! Who is shitting on the walls? Like, how can any animal shit on the wall unless..." an awkward moment of silence as I felt her eyes on me. She insinuated, "Is that you?"
"Kamala, my duck. She's probably in the bathroom shitting on those walls."
"How can you walk around here not stepping on each other?"
"Walking stick and quick reflexes."
"What the fuck!" the interviewer screamed, and a flurry of crackling followed. I assumed she had just met The Soldier. "A fucking blind snake?"
"He's cool, just don't bend over if you're wearing a skirt."
"Well, congratulations, sir. You will be listed on Wikipedia's World's Greatest Record for the most diverse blind living beings living together in a 500-square-foot unit."
"Sweet." I celebrated.
You don't know me, woman. I wanted to say it but didn't wish to open new dialogue, especially something so personal. I'd rather not know myself. "I won't know if I did."
"I can assure you that you did." She sighed. "I find this amazing."
I felt sick to my stomach and wanted to puke my guts on her. But if I did, she would judge me. The fact that she could see only proved what I couldn't see—and what happened when she first arrived, ugh, now that was intense seeing. "Tell me what you see?"
She grunted at the dog sitting next to me, that followed with a smack of her lips. "Let's just say your dog can't see." I felt her eyes wander to my cat in my arms. "She can't see either."
"Zuckerberg is a transgender male," I assured her. Such a cruel person to disrespect a pet's personal preference. So I educated her, "His pronouns are he/him... not her." She apologized.
I wouldn't have invited this hateful woman here if I didn't need the money. Ugh, desperate times, desperate acts. "And what about him?" I gestured with a gentle shrug that caused Sir Lord Bubba Mac Doogle to get excited.
"Your monkey can't see as well," she was certain. "I must be honest with you. I've written many articles about odd situations, and I must say... this is new to me."
I didn't ask what you wrote, woman. I knew she was staring at Johnny on the dresser, I had to know. "What about him?" I nudged my nose in his direction.
"Your parrot, too, can't see. Neither can your snapper turtle, the fish in your aquarium that keeps running into the glass walls, nor your pot-belly pig lying next to your bed. None of you can see."
"I see."
"No, you cannot either," she exclaimed with a sigh. Big Pharma hotfooted under the bed. This lady needs to learn her manners around sensitive creatures.
"Ugh."
"All of you are blind, living together in this filth, and had it not been for the petroleum jelly under my nose, I would have fled here vomiting," she complained, causing her to gasp with exaggeration. "There's shit everywhere, on the walls! Who is shitting on the walls? Like, how can any animal shit on the wall unless..." an awkward moment of silence as I felt her eyes on me. She insinuated, "Is that you?"
"Kamala, my duck. She's probably in the bathroom shitting on those walls."
"How can you walk around here not stepping on each other?"
"Walking stick and quick reflexes."
"What the fuck!" the interviewer screamed, and a flurry of crackling followed. I assumed she had just met The Soldier. "A fucking blind snake?"
"He's cool, just don't bend over if you're wearing a skirt."
"Well, congratulations, sir. You will be listed on Wikipedia's World's Greatest Record for the most diverse blind living beings living together in a 500-square-foot unit."
"Sweet." I celebrated.
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