So, a few weeks after I moved in, I found myself in the kitchen with my fellow, sane housemates, Adam & Abbey. I was chatting with them and making some Annie's Mac & Cheese, like I do, when the conversation turned to something we three can commiserate about rather freely; the zoo we have found ourselves living in this summer. We were talking about how we hadn't seen the Lizard Man in quite some time, when Adam mentioned that L.M. had just gotten back with Lady Bee, his lady friend and fellow housemate. "Did you see that they brought new animals?" Adam asked. "What?" I asked, without the slightest hint of anything remotely resembling apprehension or disbelief in my voice. "Yeah, but its a kitten and she's really cute!" Adam explained. And, as I looked down at Dani the Kitten, I had to agree, in spite of my worry that the poor thing had been brought to Jurassic Park as food for the attractions.
While we're on the subject, I was watching Jurassic Park on Saturday morning. You know, in addition to the cartoons. If you haven't seen it in a while you should. It's a great movie. It also illustrates my living situation and how it came to be better than this blog post ever could. Just picture the Lizard Man as the old white guy, Mr. Hammond, who starts the Park. Just, not as sweet and grandfatherly and more obsessed with lizards.
Now, back to the story. It was at this point that the three of us realized we all found the living situation to be quite ridonkulous. As a result, we also realized we would be getting along very well for the rest of the summer. I explained to them that I was befriending their cats in case there was an Orwellian uprising from the reptiles in the house; I needed someone to watch my shit while I'm at work. They gave me the low-down on all of the animals they had seen so far, and that's when it became an incredibly educational night for me. I made some off-handed reference to the fact that I had counted a dozen animals in the house and liked to do a count-off every night, just to be sure every one was accounted for and, therefore, not hiding in the floorboards of my room. That's when Adam mentioned that there were many, many more than just a dozen animals. I started listing animals on the first floor when Adam politely stopped me and asked,
"Well, what about the ones in the basement?"
"Excuse me my good sir, there's more lizards in the basement?"
"No, no. Well, not a lizard, per se. You don't know about the crocodile?"
"Bullshit"
"Seriously, there's a crocodile and a snapping turtle. Or, at least, I'm guessing its a snapping turtle because when I saw it, it looked at me and he looked pissed as all hell. Regular turtles never look angry, you know?"
"I don't believe this..."
"You don't believe me? Go in the basement and check for yourself."
"I'm not going into the basement!!! There's a fucking crocodile down there!!!"
Showing posts with label Lizard Man. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lizard Man. Show all posts
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
You Said You Lost The "Big Guy"?
So, after reading the other post from today, you may be wondering why the Tegu is called The Puppy. You might be worried about me and thinking, whoa, Chris, that thing might eat a puppy, but it is not, itself, a puppy. This, I would grant, is a very valid point and one I wish you could make, on by behalf, to the Lizard Man. The Lizard Man, you see, is the mastermind behind this whole herpetological clusterfuck that I call my summer living situation. And, from time to time and against my best wishes, he "surprises" me when I get home exhausted from work with another addition to the crazy, Reptilian Adams' Family we got going on. A couple of weeks ago I had just such an experience.
In the Lizard Man's defense, I get up early; 6:30 a.m. I then walk a mile to get a bus and then take another bus to get to work; the process repeats itself in reverse, although most days, I don't wait for the second bus and just walk the 2 miles or so home. It's good exercise and, after sitting at a desk all day, I feel like walking. Unfortunately, I get mad tired. When I get home, I just wanna make my dinner, watch some TV and go to bed. I had successfully begun the first two of those three activities; I was almost home free. While sitting on the couch and enjoying a delicious bowl of Annie's Mac and Cheese and watching Jeopardy, the Lizard Man comes into the room. This, alone, puts me on edge for the previously stated reasons. He calmly wanders around, surveying the entire room, before stopping in front of me. Looking back at the whole thing now, he should not have been that damn calm. I look up to meet his gaze, cause he's starting to creep me out more than usual at this point, and he asks, again very calmly, "Have you seen the big guy?" To which I, very rudely, I know, respond with a mouth full of mac n' cheese, "What?"
"Have you seen a big lizard wandering around in here?" Now, I think it's important to make a side note at this point, given that you, the reader, are not fully aware of all the creatures living in the house. There are turtles that just wander around the house. There are geckos in the bathroom (more on these little perverts later), but they are only about six inches long. The water monitors downstairs, however, are a good foot to two feet in length. You add to that the fact they are related to Komodo dragons, which is to say they have venomous saliva, and frankly they're too damn big for my tastes. So to now the Lizard Man, himself, refer to "a big lizard" in the house, bigger (one has to assume), than any of the other terrors in the house was not exactly what I was hoping to hear. So, still with a mouthful of macaroni, given that I was afraid of swallowing and chocking on the next thing he'd say, I again asked, "What?" Since I wasn't really being very helpful, the Lizard Man kind of gave up on me at this point and again started looking for the "big guy." Unfortunately for me, as he mentioned that the "big guy" likes to hide under the couches, he also started to look under the couch that I was sitting on.
I want to be clear. I do not consider myself in very good physical shape. Those of you who know me, know that I'm skinny like a stick, but that's probably more to do with an overactive metabolism that I should get checked out than it does with any healthy physical activity I do. I can't run very fast and when I try I feel sick; I can jump maybe three inches off the ground. Miraculously, however, upon seeing the Lizard Man look underneath the couch I was on, I not only reacted with surprising agility, but I think I straight-up levitated off the couch. (Look for my upcoming blog on my daily training as a Jedi.) After a quick scan, the Lizard Man was quick to reassure me, though, that the lizard was not underneath my couch. I just gave a very collected, very nonchalant, "Oh, word..." before sitting my terrified ass down. When he looked under the other couch, though, we all got a little lucky and he said, "Oh, sweet, here he is!" "Oh, that's great news," I said. As he proceeded to pull the approximately three foot long and one foot wide, giant-ass (that's a special Herpetological term to describe size) lizard out from under the couch, he said "Meet 'The Puppy!'"
The way in which The Puppy was trying his damnedest to stay underneath the couch and run away from the Lizard Man should have struck me as funny at the time. So too was his reference to the lizard as "The Puppy." For some reason, though, the humor was lost on me. Everyday, I contemplate taking the Lizard Man aside to show him the Google images results for "puppy." Who knows, while studying reptiles and amphibians all the time, maybe the dude has never even seen a dog before. Or maybe he's blind and I should replace all these crazy ass animals with Dachshunds and plastic, rubber snakes. If I see him walk into a single door frame in the next couple weeks, Operation Mr. Magoo will go from the planning phases to full implementation. I'll keep you posted on developments.
In the Lizard Man's defense, I get up early; 6:30 a.m. I then walk a mile to get a bus and then take another bus to get to work; the process repeats itself in reverse, although most days, I don't wait for the second bus and just walk the 2 miles or so home. It's good exercise and, after sitting at a desk all day, I feel like walking. Unfortunately, I get mad tired. When I get home, I just wanna make my dinner, watch some TV and go to bed. I had successfully begun the first two of those three activities; I was almost home free. While sitting on the couch and enjoying a delicious bowl of Annie's Mac and Cheese and watching Jeopardy, the Lizard Man comes into the room. This, alone, puts me on edge for the previously stated reasons. He calmly wanders around, surveying the entire room, before stopping in front of me. Looking back at the whole thing now, he should not have been that damn calm. I look up to meet his gaze, cause he's starting to creep me out more than usual at this point, and he asks, again very calmly, "Have you seen the big guy?" To which I, very rudely, I know, respond with a mouth full of mac n' cheese, "What?"
"Have you seen a big lizard wandering around in here?" Now, I think it's important to make a side note at this point, given that you, the reader, are not fully aware of all the creatures living in the house. There are turtles that just wander around the house. There are geckos in the bathroom (more on these little perverts later), but they are only about six inches long. The water monitors downstairs, however, are a good foot to two feet in length. You add to that the fact they are related to Komodo dragons, which is to say they have venomous saliva, and frankly they're too damn big for my tastes. So to now the Lizard Man, himself, refer to "a big lizard" in the house, bigger (one has to assume), than any of the other terrors in the house was not exactly what I was hoping to hear. So, still with a mouthful of macaroni, given that I was afraid of swallowing and chocking on the next thing he'd say, I again asked, "What?" Since I wasn't really being very helpful, the Lizard Man kind of gave up on me at this point and again started looking for the "big guy." Unfortunately for me, as he mentioned that the "big guy" likes to hide under the couches, he also started to look under the couch that I was sitting on.
I want to be clear. I do not consider myself in very good physical shape. Those of you who know me, know that I'm skinny like a stick, but that's probably more to do with an overactive metabolism that I should get checked out than it does with any healthy physical activity I do. I can't run very fast and when I try I feel sick; I can jump maybe three inches off the ground. Miraculously, however, upon seeing the Lizard Man look underneath the couch I was on, I not only reacted with surprising agility, but I think I straight-up levitated off the couch. (Look for my upcoming blog on my daily training as a Jedi.) After a quick scan, the Lizard Man was quick to reassure me, though, that the lizard was not underneath my couch. I just gave a very collected, very nonchalant, "Oh, word..." before sitting my terrified ass down. When he looked under the other couch, though, we all got a little lucky and he said, "Oh, sweet, here he is!" "Oh, that's great news," I said. As he proceeded to pull the approximately three foot long and one foot wide, giant-ass (that's a special Herpetological term to describe size) lizard out from under the couch, he said "Meet 'The Puppy!'"
The way in which The Puppy was trying his damnedest to stay underneath the couch and run away from the Lizard Man should have struck me as funny at the time. So too was his reference to the lizard as "The Puppy." For some reason, though, the humor was lost on me. Everyday, I contemplate taking the Lizard Man aside to show him the Google images results for "puppy." Who knows, while studying reptiles and amphibians all the time, maybe the dude has never even seen a dog before. Or maybe he's blind and I should replace all these crazy ass animals with Dachshunds and plastic, rubber snakes. If I see him walk into a single door frame in the next couple weeks, Operation Mr. Magoo will go from the planning phases to full implementation. I'll keep you posted on developments.
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