Disturbing

I'm a total and complete mess. I pretty much spend all day either pulling my falling bra straps up or carefully removing pieces of hair from my lipstick. I've gotten to the point where I am totally shameless and no matter the time, place or circumstance will plunge my hands into my shirt to place my bra straps back on my shoulders where (I think) they belong. What the fuck does a girl have to do to keep her fucking over the shoulder boulder holder over the shoulder for chrissakes?? Am I shrinking? What the fuck is going on?

And the other thing is, yes, I'm heavy on the lipstick or lipgloss, whichever the day may bring, but does that mean that I am just locked into a life of my hair blowing around and sticking to my lips? Every day? Every time I leave the house? For the rest of my life? So. Not. Hot.

Poor, poor me.

And today I saw the most disturbing thing.

So, so disturbing. So disturbing, in fact, after seeing it I had to clench my chest and blink wildly and try to regain my composure. Seriously, I was incredibly disturbed by this sighting. I can think of no other word for it than disturbed.

So I'm driving down the road today, starting to slow down as I approach a stop sign when I barely notice this string or rope or branch blowing around in the road in front of me. It is a fairly windy day, just ask all the lipgloss in my fucking hair, so to see trash or whatever blowing around in the road isn't such a big deal. But then as I get closer I start to notice that it is blowing around a little too much to be fueled by the wind. That's when I notice that it is not blowing around at all. Nope. It is slithering. It's a goddamned, motherfucking SNAKE!

I don't think I can even begin to describe the way a snake makes me feel. I am the queen of irrational fears and phobias, but snakes top that list. I can't even look at a picture of one without peeing on myself just a little bit. And this motherfucker was huge. And it was right there in front of me. In a residential neighborhood, nary a pond in sight, and a mere 5 to 7 miles from my house. I swear that was my first thought, Oh, my God! A snake sighting within 50 miles of my house! I'm moving!

But it doesn't end there, hotties, oh no it doesn't. Apparently a car that had reached this particular stretch of road just mere moments before me had run over the latter half of said snake. Remember, this is a big 'un. And that fucking thing was split open with bloody snake guts spread out over the roadway as the top half of it was slithering with all it had. By now I had passed it and was watching it try to pull itself to the side of the road in vain because the smooshed half was embedded in the black top, through my rear-view mirror.

Now, you would think that seeing that helpless creature fighting for its life, which would no doubt soon be over thanks to a bloody violent death, might give me pause to rethink my hatered for all things scalely. Or at least feel the tiniest bit of compassion for another living thing that was suffering.

But not Hot Lips.

There's an icebox where my heart used to be.

I felt my time and efforts would be better served throwing my car into reverse and cackling like a mad scientist than feeling compassion towards a humongous copperhead.


(Trust me. My actual dead snake was way grosser.)


And the only thing more disgusting than the above photograph, ladies and gentlemen, is the current smell of my sweaty feet.

Thank you.