Anybody who knows me well knows how much I love the wintertime. By contrast, I find spring to be a damp, depressing season in Atlantic Canada. I hate the month of May the way some people hate February.
Today was such a crummy grey day that I decided to go down to the riverbank and let a beaver chew my leg off. I pulled up my pantleg and he went around and around my shin. He was able to pull my foot and ankle away with his little paws, leaving my shin-bone sharpened to a bone-marrow pencil-point.
The beaver paddled away, clutching my amputated foot between his teeth. Dark drops of rain fell into the river around him.
I found a tree-branch to use as a cane and hobbled back to the dirt road. I dragged my stump behind me to spell out giant letters on the ground. From the sky, a dirty crimson message would be visible in the roadway: “CURSE YOU…”
That’s as far as I got before I ran out of blood and passed out.
When I woke up it was raining quite a bit harder. The beaver had come back and chewed off my other foot as well. My pointy bleeding legs were of uneven length.
I flipped over onto my stomach and crawled back to the house, using my elbows to pull my body through the mud.
I think I’m just going to stay on the couch for the next few weeks.
but how do you feel about summer?
while you’re on the couch can you upload our offensive little video and post it?
Horny!!
alright titus andronicus, stop chasing beaver and being so melodramatic
you got to calibrate that shit people