Yeah, so remember that one time a bird committed suicide on my car?
It happened again.
Well, kind of.
Only it wasn’t a bird. And it didn’t fly. But I killed it with my car by accident and I’m 99% sure it could have been avoided if the animal didn’t have a death wish.
So, tonight on my way home from the ‘rents house – where I camp out some Sunday nights to watch Dexter, but more on that later – I was driving down Dorsey. That road, if you’ve never been on it, is curvy and narrow. And I swear to you that possum came out of nowhere.
He ran right in front of my car and I couldn’t swerve or I’d have wrecked. So. Cue the inevitable hit, crunching sound and me calling my mom to tell her what happened and try not to gag while I think about what my tires/bottom of my car might look like.
Bleh.
And to make matters worse, in tonight’s episode of Dexter, he went after a serial killer who is a dead animal remover that also abducts and kills young women.
Yeah…here come the bad dreams.
On account of... 