In grungy memoriam.

Today I cleaned under the bed for the first time in…well, I’m not sure exactly how long but I think I might have still been in my twenties the last time I did it. All I know is there was fishing gear under there that I hadn’t seen since the last time Nutty Hubby and I went camping, which was five years ago.

*ahem*

I’m not a slob, I swear.

I just don’t look under the bed a lot.

Anyway, a lot of dust bunnies lost their lives today. I know, I’m a monster. Those guys had names. Families. Jobs. Presumably. I mean, after five years of being left to their own devices, how could they not have gained some kind of sentience and established their own social order?

Just think what magnificent accomplishments they might have had in store.

And then I went and Swiffered it all away.

So let us have a moment of silence for Filthy Flopsy, Mucky Mopsy, Cruddy Cotton-Tail and Polluted Peter, dust bunnies extraordinaire, and their multitudes of kin who I can’t be bothered to mention individually but who also all lost their lives today.

And whom I’ve been sneezing out for the last several hours.

Bless you.

Spiders ate my whore pills.

The other night, as Nutty Hubby and I were getting ready for bed, I fished my daily birth control pill out of the pack and was just about to pop it in my mouth when it just up and slipped from my fingers. I heard it bounce once on the hardwood floor, and then there was silence.

Motherfucker.

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