Saturday, July 30, 2011

Oh, Ew! Or, Crap I Found Under My Sofa

Fucking ew! Laceball!
Remember that time I thought LE had eaten all the meatballs I gave him for dinner?

Of course you don't. That's because I save this kind of mundane shit for Facebook, though I don't actually post it there either. In fact, I generally keep the boring details of my thrilling life to myself, in order to make my life appear more thrilling to the people I imagine are watching me on the Internet. It's all about being conscious of one's audience. Whether or not said audience exists is irrelevant to the construct.

Anyway, you know what this crap I found under my sofa is?

That's right. It's the shell of a meatball that's been eaten to lace by ants. By the time I found it, it was dried out to the point of being something other than meat, with a few lackluster and disappointed-looking ants creeping around on it, plus some hair and some dust. Given how much I've been cooking lately, which is not much at all, I judged the laceball to be about 2 weeks old.

And you know what I did with it after I took the picture? That's right, I knocked it back under the sofa with whatever implement I'd used to get it out of there in the first place. You think I'd touch that shit? And hold it in my hand all the way to the garbage? Hah! I pay people to do that kind of thing for me, because I'm so fucking fabulous. And also lazy. And also creeped out by laceballs under my sofa. They deserve basically the same strategy as cockroaches, which is to be moved to somewhere I can't see them. Then it's kind of like they aren't even there at all.



Nomad said...

Here's a nice short story your post reminded me of.
It's one of my favorites and I'd love to try it out in a class sometime!

I don't have "laceballs" in my house, but the other day, I opened the door to the balcony and the window in the bedroom on the other side of the house. A gust of wind blew through the house and it was like the march of the dust-bunnies. Tufts of cat hair came flying down the hallway like mini-ghosts.
It was a domestic special effect.

Stranger said...


And that story, ew!

Jack Scott said...

I's too hot to mop. Spring cleaning is for the autumn.

Stranger said...

I just feel sorry for my cleaner who's going to be doing the mopping while she's fasting. I hope, for her comfort, she won't feel so ashamed about taking a sip of water here and there with only the gavur watching...

Jack Scott said...

I hope you won't be munching on a chocolate biscuit in front of the poor starving woman.

Stranger said...

I'm already worried if it would be rude to make coffee.