Flyer/Rant...Gawd Awful Troof

[Iron Sulfide]

When you're in Shit Deep, it sticks to your feet,
So Watch Your Step, while walking with the Sheep


For too long, now, i have been backed up. The shit runneth, but my tight ass wasn't producing squat.
i attribute this to a Troof deficiency.

Like grotesquely obese Amurricanz eating plenty of food and gaining no sustainence; over-fed and under-nourished.
What a Shame. What a Sham.

DON'T BE LIKE ME, DAMMIT!

if for no other reason, because it's better to be yourself, and other truisms.

But mostly, because the Troof, once known, cannot, ever, never not EVER be unknown.
Sure, it can be ignored. You can ignore the Troof all you want.
It will be then as the child that seeks negative attention.
You will come to know more than the Troof, but the Awful Troof.

When Schrodinger's Cat is dead, closing the box again won't bring him back.

NOT EVER.

{The is a brief interlude to break the weight of this Bullshit into more palitable, consumer friendly rations. Please Stand By:
-The Modern term "Never," a negation of the term "Ever" is actually a contraction of "Not Ever."
-Ever is a word that connotes an occurence, whether actual or potential, of any event or circumstance.
-The negation of "Ever," then, is the opposite, or "an event or circumstance that is beyond the scope of possibility."
This has been a friendly reminder from your Friendly local chapter of Newspeakers Academia Department.}

When the Awful Troof comes for you, like it did me, there is a chance to pay attention to it.
If it has come this far, BE LIKE ME, and start paying attention, quick, motherfucker.

if for no other reason, because this is your last chance.

When you aren't paying attention at this point, you learn the Gawd Awful Troof,
The GAT, and it is will FUCKING SHOOTING YOU DEAD.


* * *


The Awful Troof came to me last night. It doesn't matter what or why, and it'll never make sense when it comes.
But it will bring More Clarity than you thought possible when it does. For me it was rats. Two of them precisely.
Pez and Nox, tan and black, respectively. Pez was your classic under-dog (rat?), timid but inventive and resourceful;
Nox was more aggressive, relied primarily on muscling more food than Pez, frequently biting people that tried to handle them.
Not usually myself, as i typically am the person to clean the cage, feed/water/nurture them, even though they belonged to a
former roomate's girlfriend.

It's been a year since we were roomates, and he got stuck with the rats when he and his girlfriend broke up. I say "stuck"
because it was such a fucking chore to feed and water them, and occasionally change the litter, that i would usually end up doing it when
i was over visiting sometime. Really, they're captive rats bred into capivity, they don't especially need attention.

I gave them attention, though. I don't care much for people. I like animals, but i prefer them to be wild, and thus am less likely to have contact with
them. Probably for the best. Pet- the concept- disgusts me. Rationalize lower life-forms or true companionship with an animal, but if you got an
animal with the intent of ownership, and training it for this or that- performance or convenience- fucking disgusts me. So i could probably be categorized
as liking pets more than their owners. Period.

The most recent visit to my friend's place, i went into the garage where they were kept, to feed and handle them while having a smoke.
Yeah, tobacco is bad and nicotine is addictive. The fuck i care, right? That's the American Way.

Anyway, only Nox came up as i was filling the food container. I didn't notice at first. Then i reached in and took hold of him, because sometimes
Pez will wait his turn, instead of bickering for the food.

I stirred the dry oats and nuts and flax seed with my finger. Nothing. I already knew what had happened, but it was so much worse.
Pez was dead, yes. But the poor fuckers were basically starving to death, and the water bottle had slipped to an odd position so they couldn't reach the spicket.
I found Pez, curled up under the plastic dome and litter, half eaten. Nox hadn't even touched the food i put into the cage.

When i informed them, they became afraid of Nox getting blood lust. They wanted to destroy him, as is the custom. None of them would have, though.

I said, Fuck that shit, he's not blood-lusting. He never bit me. But he could do that at any point now, I did realize. And he wasn't going to get the care
he needed here anyway. I think my alternative was better. No different in the end, but still better.

We took him down to the local park and released him, with some food, near a tree with nearby shrub cover, and lots of food sources at his disposal.
I could very likely be a death sentence for him anyway. And if he dies because he was domesticated and released, well, it'll be a better death than starving,
and he won't be in a cage. I think he's got a chance, though. He ate another Fucking RAT. RAWK ON DUDE!

R.I.P. Pez.

[Triple Zero]

I think he's got a chance, though. He ate another Fucking RAT. RAWK ON DUDE!

dunno if that makes any sense, but RAH! anyway. it's a good story/rant.