For those of you who are slumbering a little too soundly at night, I present the definitive cure.
My sainted mother and I discovered it yesterday on a day-trip to a quaint little nearby town we’re fond of, in an antique store that we’re also fond of, mostly because it’s just weird in there.
There are all sorts of strange squirrely energies in that place, probably due to its history as an old masonic lodge, and compounded of course by all the personal possessions of people passed, many of which have energy still attached to them as well.
As a result, after a few minutes of walking around in all that murky aura soup, we usually come out a bit lightheaded and discombobulated, which is really half the fun of it anyway.
And never more so than yesterday, when, while trotting innocently down one of the many staircases in that extensive establishment, we were suddenly confronted by THIS extraordinary object, suspended on the wall directly in front of us.
(WARNING: Do NOT let your children see this, unless you happen to be not all that crazy about them, maybe).
I know, right?
Here, have another gander, just in case by some miracle some shred of your sanity is still remaining at this point.
I’m pretty sure mine isn’t.
I’m not sure we can blame this thing for that, really, but it sure doesn’t help, now does it?
The tag on this fine, uh, artwork read something to the effect of “Cow, Texas Artist, Oh God, Oh God, What the Hell Is This Thing and Why Are They Making Me Touch It??” which seems like a lot for that tiny little sticker, doesn’t it, so probably it was just the first part, and I don’t think it looks like a cow at all, anyway, do you?
I think it looks like AWESOMENESS.
And it was HUGE.
And there were so many SNAKES.
This brings back any number of fond memories from my childhood, in fact.
No, really, it does.
You do not want to know.
Now, the only reason I didn’t obtain this unearthly delight immediately and cart it home to mount on our front door as an impenetrable defense against home invasion (and all future apocalyptic events) is that it would likely not have fit in the trunk of my mom’s car, and also for some reason it cost money, which I don’t really have that much of at the moment.
I don’t recall exactly how much money, unfortunately, since I was far too busy wondering what sort of pet I could keep in its mouth to pop out as a charming greeting to our unsuspecting dinner guests.
I’m thinking ferret, or maybe a hamster.
Who doesn’t love hamsters?
They’re super adorable.
Anyhoo, you’ll be relieved to know that it’s still for sale, and if you happen to have any nagging pest problems at your house that you would like to get rid of, for example your spouse, I’m pretty sure that this would take care of it pretty much upon arrival.
Because nothing says “Don’t Tread on Me” like, well, whatever the heck that thing is.
So don’t thank me.
Thank Texas.
And sleep tight!
Don’t let the cow snakes bite!