Monday, November 20, 2006

Snakes On A ...

Behold! Me and a 9-foot long python. I am invicible, despite the fact that I'm about to lose my shorts. Thank God for my PermaBelly v2.0. Y'all, I am not even kidding when I tell you that I'm giving the muthafucka 18 months to be gone. That is 18 months of proper diet and exercise. And this July when I {panicattack panicattack panicattack} turn {panicattack panicattack panicattack} 32 36, if it's not resolved, that shit is getting sucked out.

But honestly, I think the weight of this snake is sorta pushing everything down. Yes, I like that explanation. We'll go with that as our final answer, Regis.

Let's talk about snakes. Me and snakes. Hearken back to a time when I was but a mere sapling living on a red dirt road in Alabama. Good times, man. Good times. I was a little snake and turtle boy. In fact, my turtle-catching skills are rivaled only by my ability to change a flat tire in less than 5 minutes and, with a few warm-up swings, the ability to go head-to-head with most lesbians in a game of softball.

To catch a turtle you must lie in wait until they surface in the grass on the side of the pond then, with lightning speed and laser accuracy, you reach down and grab them from behind. Most people who meet me would also not think that I've - not once but twice - been snapped on the finger by a small snapping turtle. True story. Truer still is the fact that you can shake the bitches off ... you don't need to wait until a thunderstorm for relief.

When I was maybe 7 or 8 years-old I came home from school one day to a surprise that I will never forget. My father was working 2nd shift at the time, so he was home in the mornings with my mother. They accomplished all sorts of tasks on our little farm during this time. I forget what they were doing outside but whatever it was yielded a green garden snake that my father caught for me.

I was in love with this snake. I'd never seen one so vividly chartreuse and sleek in design. I was allowed to keep the snake for about a week - clearly as long as my mother could tolerate having a snake inside her house - but during that time we were inseparable. On a dare, I did put the snake in my mouth (shut up all y'all gutter-minds ... this is not foreshadowing at all and, even if it is, so what?) but not the whole snake; think like the snake is wide, right, like his head is in your left hand, and his tail is in your right hand, and your arms are stretched wide, so you open your mouth and just sort of let him hang there and then your father walks around the corner of the house and you let snake fall to ground because you're busted in front of your friends and your father and it's then you realize it's time for the snake to move on. Return to the wild. Be free.

Rock on with your Elsa-loving self.

1 comment:

jnday said...

Holy crap, what is it with you and reptiles/insects in the mouth, shug?

My brother brought a small black snake home once. It stayed approximately 12 hours and/or overnight. Our mom had a dream that the snake had attached itself to her ankle while she ran frantically through the backyard. Thus ended our snake handling days. But we still speak in tongues.