This is Shannon guest-blogging for Pat again because the occasion called for it and I just happen to feel like ranting, so check this shit out:
I accompanied my father to the vet’s office this morning out of temporary insanity – I hate that neighborhood, it’s the sort of place that makes you feel as if you ought to have a crowbar or equally as dangerous blunt object in your hands at all times. So! I go in, he goes to the front desk to negotiate flea treatment medicine, except there’s a rather rotund, bald-headed redneck that’s beaten him to it. The man didn’t seem all that interesting at first, except he had some kind of dog that looked like it was part badger. Very, very odd and worth a second look.
- Image via Wikipedia
Except as soon as the freak gets a look at me, he looks down. Then up. Then down and up again. And the fucker just kept staring! My brain automatically switched to its default programming: RAGE. There may have been a few mental stabbing motions with an imaginary sharp object. I’m not normally that violent a person – I at least had the decency to come up with a suitable apology to the ladies behind the desk, which went a little something like this: “So sorry, ladies, but I had to eliminate an immediate threat to the species that couldn’t be allowed to reproduce under any circumstances. Please find a nice home for the badger dog and good day.”
I’m okay now, I just thought I’d share. Though, if you’re looking for a story with a moral, I suggest Aesop and possibly the Brothers Grimm. I don’t roll that way.
