Skunk Weed

I just wanted to smoke a Marlboro. I have to go outside to do it. Most of the time nothing happens. It’s peaceful and tranquil here. I enjoy seeing and saying hello to my neighbors.

Then this kid comes up, sits down on the sidewalk and tokes up a water bong. At first I was socially distanced sufficiently to not smell anything. Then it smote my nose: the exact same odor of a skunk.

I hate skunks. Small ground mammals are disease carrying varmints. They are a plague. None, of course, more so than rats and skunks. If you have never smelled a skunk, you may be counting me cruel. Once you do smell one, there will be no limit to your loathing for them.

They’re varmints. Run away if you see one. Run in terror and don’t dare look back. If one sprays you, you’ll vomit. A lot. Baths and showers can’t help you. Your clothes are now dumpster feed. Fortunately you don’t have to go it alone. There are ways to remove skunk spray. But remember, as wild animals, they carry things you don’t want.

I was thinking, and this is off- subject of course because I’m mental and an asshole and I sidetrack easily.

Possums are possibly the least dangerous varmint. They rarely attack. Skunks, racoons and squirrels, as well as those bold chipmunks? Plague carriers. No shit. Among other diseases. Even when they’re not aggressive they’re bold. They’ll forage right under your ass if you’re sitting. But possums? Leave em be especially if you have a big yard. They devour ticks, spiders, you name it. For ticks, no chemical rids them faster than a plodding ugly possum.

Skunk Weed is an even bigger menace than any skunk. It smells like a bad case of B.O. mixed with roadkill in July. And except for being on the highway behind a hog or chicken truck on a hot day, nothing else comes close. Well. Except for that day in July when a breeze kicked up and you realized you hadn’t seen your neighbor since Christmas…

This kid’s fucked up. Thinks coronavirus is a bioweapon. Thinks Obama was the worst president ever. Thinks Trump is brilliant but has a lot on his plate.

Trump ain’t brilliant. He’s a fucking moron who sits up at night watching OANN and Fox, then tweets anything that pissed him off. Momma won’t let him touch her. He doesn’t bother with his son. He eats Big Macs and tells whoppers. The worst thing on Trump’s plate is an order of fries. Jesus this kid really thinks Trump is a good president!

And he’s going to vote for him. Naturally.

I don’t know how this guy gets so much of the shit. Yesterday he had the bedroom window open and I could hear it when he poured the water out to drop two stories. He also hummed. Same handful of notes. Repeated without cease all day yesterday and all night. I went out today at midday. He was  humming.

I went out at 16:30 hours. Still humming, no deviation whatever from the same short repeated “tune”, if you can call it that.

I was watching movies. Went out about 20:00 hours just after dark. Fucker’s still humming, same tune, tempo, volume. I tried to ignore it but now it was getting on my nerves. Suddenly I understand what it’s like for those poor folks in New Mexico who hear the “Taos hum”, a low frequency constant sound nobody can identify or explain. Between you and me, New Mexico ain’t all that. I’d move to another state entirely. No second home in Taos, no going back, sell the house at a loss and move to the Appalachian lowlands where those sumbitches sleep like a log at night, unless they’ve been sprayed by a skunk up there. In witch case, ain’t nobody in the whole house sleeping for a week.

I watched a live YouTube for a while, a guy who’s got mad knowledge of TV trivia and locations where any show you can name was shot. Soon as my head clears, I’ll give you a link, because you would love this channel. I took a break and went out to quell a nicotine fit and the fucker was still humming. That’s some high, you know? Holy shit. Skunk weed may smell like a dead donkey’s ass but if you get that kind of high, then I guess I understand why the kid’s doing it.

Well. No I don’t. Is that the way things are now? In my time, weed smelled good. It tasted good. Sometimes it’s all I could think about.  This kid’s got some shit that would have made my generation throw up. Fuck the weed, we’d just take reds.

At 23:00 EDT I had coffee and went to burn one afterward. The fucking kid hummed the same tune without one tonal deviation, and that’s extraordinary. I would never have thought anyone would be capable of such a feat. I mean, is this Guinness World Record shit or what? Like on the Brady Bunch when Bobby and Cindy wanted to set the world teeter-totter record?

I was still awake at 00:12. I wanted a smoke but hesitated. I knew he’d still be humming. And he was. The harder I tried to ignore it, the more agitated I became. It would take a jet engine running wide open to drown the fucker out. I don’t have one of those.

I tried to sleep. At 02:45 I gave up and went back out for a Marlboro. The kid was still at it!

Then he stopped. He screamed at the noise level of a B-17 engine, “Mom, where’s the fucking charger?”

One last thing. 03:00 isn’t the hour to be yelling. He actually came outside and yelled at me, “You got a extra lighter?”

Of course I do. But I said no. I’m not a very good person to be pissing off.

Tell ya what, kid. You take that charger and your glass bong and your skunk weed, and you shove them as far up your ass as they’ll go. I mean, get shit on your elbows, you crazy fucker!