Before I get this under way, I just think I should note that if I keep blogging much longer I'm going to be the most boring person that all my friends know. Why, you ask? I'll tell you. I come here pretty much every day. I post about the events of my day, my week, what have you, and if it's been a particularly boring time, I'll post one of my better stories from my past. This means that all my best stories are told here remarkably often. So when I go out of an evening, and I am in the company of those who are known readers here, (or at least known to me, because a lot of my real life friends who read this malarkey are some serious lurkers,) I have to keep in mind that those people already know my best stories before I ever open my mouth. And that's a real bitch. I mean, I'm plenty funny on a real-time, current-affairs basis, but then again I also like to pepper in some of my older material to keep people on their toes.
That said, here's a little bit of a new tale, mixed with an old Lizzle classic. Seeing as it's Snakes on a Plane weekend I think this story works really well, timing wise.
I was talking to my mom earlier this evening, and she mentioned that my cousin was watching a rain storm from the comfort of her home (which is right on a lake) and while she was watching the rains come down, she noticed what appeared to be a piece of rope or a bike tire that was in the front yard... And then she noticed that this piece of rope or bike tire was mobile. Since she has a couple of very small children in the house, and suspecting it might be a rather sizable snake, she asked her husband to go and check it out. And he asked her what he was supposed to do if it WAS a snake, kill it? To which my cousin more or less replied, "I have had it with that motherfuckin' snake in my motherfuckin' yard!" And so he hopped into some waders, and ran out into the yard equipped with an umbrella and a shovel. And as he approached, he found that not only was it a snake, it was a water moccasin, (yes, they are poisonous,) and it was angry, as evidenced by the bared fangs. And Frank is a tough guy in his own little way, so he took care of business and well, let's just say that shovel served double duty!
Hearing my mom telling this reminded me of another reptilian tale. One that we still razz her for her role in.
A long time ago, when I was just a wee little Lizzle-in-training, we lived in a very small town on a rather large property that abutted the Hoosier National Forest, and between our property and our nearest neighbor was about an acre of untended land that my brother and I regularly traversed to go play with the other neighborhood kids. (Yeah, I grew up as a yard ape, and I own it.) So one day mom rounds up my brother and me for a trip to the grocery store. I'd say I was maybe 5, and my brother was about 7. And so my mother and we two sweet, innocent babes are not twenty yards from our house, and we all see what was roughly an 8 foot black rat snake... At least we think that's what it was. All that was important was that it was HUGE, reptilian, mean looking, and sunning itself in the road in front of us.
Mom, in a full-sized sedan (either a Buick or an Oldsmobile, I can't remember which) figured that running over it would do the trick. So she rolled over that bad boy... Which only seemed to piss it off as opposed to killing it, as it kept on moving. So she rolled over it in reverse. And still, it was just upset, and not squished. So she rolled over it a couple more times with no further ill effect to the snake. So what did she do? Instead of driving ALL of us back to the house, she gets out of the car, leaving my brother and I (terrified, although in a closed car) in VERY CLOSE proximity to a very upset reptile.
So what seemed like an eternity later mom comes back, with my father in tow. Dad, seeing the angry beast runs back to the house, and comes back with-- OF ALL THINGS -- a wooden sword that my brother used to play with. At which point I'm pretty sure I remember him saying something like, "I've had it with this motherfuckin' snake in the motherfuckin' road!" And he proceeds to pummel and bludgeon the thing over the course of the next few minutes. And once he was satisfied with the beating, (though I'm not entirely sure it was actually dead, because the thing had just survived being run over 6 times, so I don't know that a blunt wooden sword was all that menacing,) he used the end of the sword to scoop it up and fling it into that untended plot I mentioned... Yeah, the same plot of tall grass that we small children crossed on a regular basis. I'm pretty sure that it was only a coincidence that our neighbor Adolph was bitten by a snake a week or two later while tending his garden which was also in very close proximity to that field. Yeah... Probably wasn't the same snake, because dad beat the crap out of it with a blunt wooden sword.
So mom gets credit for traumatizing us by leaving us to fend for ourselves so that she could go get dad, who only flung the snake into territory commonly used for childhood play. But she's still the best damn momma around, and if you wanna fight me on that statement, I will shank you. Have no doubt about it.
Yeah, that's it. You disappointed that's all? You wanna throw down? I'm not afraid to put a $300 snake skin shoe up your ass! C'mon! Because I've had it with these motherfuckin' bitches who don't appreciate my motherfuckin' snake stories!!
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