Zodi’s Blog

Worst Weekend Ever

    

    

                                                                                                                                                      

  I don’t usually use my blog as an outlet to complain….actually I do, but it’s not usually personal to me. It’s usually about the Rapture Ready freaks or some other fringe group of nut jobs that got my panties in a bunch by flying onto my radar. But this time I have to, otherwise the built up pressure in my brain will likely be unleashed with an obscenity laced tirade against some poor, innocent 87 year old drunk guy who I find casually pissing on my house. That happens at least once or twice a week, by the way.       

See, I had the four-day weekend From Hell. I went out on Friday night and had my fill of Spanish beer. Alhambra Reserva 1925 which boosts an alcohol content of 6.4% and goes down like water. You do realize what you’ve done the next day though when the LSU marching band is doing a halftime show within your head, and Pyrotechnico is doing the Fourth of July show behind your eyes. It was in this deplorable condition that I was awoken on Saturday morning to the execrable, ungodly sound of screaming pigs. After I drug myself from the peaceful bliss of unconsciousness to the real world of swine massacre, I went out onto my terrace to find my wife crying her eyes out. It was really upsetting, listening to the sheer terror that the two stressed, dying pigs were eloquently communicating.        

I’m sure that they cut their throats, but I don’t know if whoever did it really sucked at cutting throats or used a butter knife to do the job. It lasted a full half hour and that’s way too long of a time for an animal to know that it’s dying. I made the mistake of looking over the edge of my terrace to find a literal river of blood flowing down out of the back alley. The air soon became thick with flies. I should’ve gotten a photo of the blood river, but I didn’t until it was mostly dried up and rinsed away. After they gutted the animals they threw the entrails on the street for the dogs. Our dog became so nervous/upset about the commotion that he decided to count to three all over our kitchen floor.        

remnants of the river of blood

    

I also somehow managed to forget that there was some obscure fiesta both Monday and Tuesday which means that EVERY business in Spain was shut down. There are no convenience stores here. Because it is a short, beautiful walk into town, I’ve gotten into the habit of buying my food fresh, daily. I always go to the panderia and get just baked integral ‘loafy’ bread; I don’t buy a loaf of bread. They don’t really have frozen or caned goods here like they do back home so what else could I do but pick up my food daily?  I get my chicken breast, and fruit and veggies daily as well. So arriving in town on Monday morning to find a ghost town was a real bummer.        

I’m not saying that we starved, I would’ve begged some bacon off of my butchering neighbors before that, but I had to get really creative in the kitchen. We ended up having to eat some really odd combinations of food. Lucky I’m a decent cook, or it really would’ve really sucked. That was the first time I ever made chick pea (garbanzo) and egg patties and they were great. Even without a God damned bun. I had to eat my nightly PB&J on about 48 crackers. If I made a list of all we had to go without for 3 days it would seem meaningless, but when you are actually going without a few minor necessities like bread, it fucks up your day.        

A calm moment

    

Then to top it all off my cat decided to go full tard. It’s fine to go half tard, but you never, ever go full tard. Every night at around 9:30 he gets a bug up his ass and goes completely ape shit crazy. His tail puffs out like a squirrel on crack, he starts doing this insane, sideways bouncy trot and he goes nuclear (the way Bush pronounces nuclear) on the hapless dog. They then chase each other around the cement floors all over the house bouncing into furniture left and right.        

Not a cat perch

    

                                                                                                                                                                                

This Sunday night during spastic time, Corky the cat leaps onto our Ben Franklin style fireplace. For two years we’ve had the cat and the fireplace. He didn’t do it when he was Corky the kitten so why in the hell would he do it now? He let out an eardrum shattering meowl before diving back off. I tried to run his paws under cold water but he wasn’t having too much of that. No vet in the whole country was open, even if only to give him a pain shot. Now after three days the pads of his feet are a lot less red, but he’s still walking gingerly and slinking around looking pissed off. I think he’s just embarrassed that he made the mistake of going full tard.       

Lots of other stuff happened to make it the worst weekend ever, including power cuts which always happen the second before I hit save, my wife broke a mirror Tuesday, our house is now overrun with flies…………………… but I’m done venting. I’ll be funnier next post…..I hope.

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December 10, 2009 - Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , ,

33 Comments »

  1. Whadda ya mean this wasn’t funny? I laughed my ass off. Better days ahead for you and the wife I hope. And by the way, our cat’s name is Corky as well. Oooooo weeeeee Ooooooo. Did you name him that like we did, because our cat is well…”special”. Cheers Scott!!

    Comment by Matt-Man | December 10, 2009 | Reply

    • Aww thanks buddy; I tried to add a little humor even if it was self-depreciating. Our cat’s real name is Tunado, short for fortunado which is Spanish for fortunate since we saved his life when he was a kitten. But he only knows kitty cat, because that’s all we’ve ever called him. After this incident, we should formerly rename him Corky.

      Thanks Matt-Man!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 10, 2009 | Reply

  2. Can you hear the pigs Clarice? WTF and you were off to buy bacon…oh how cruel 😦 .

    Comment by frigginloon | December 10, 2009 | Reply

    • I thought of the same thing with the Silence of the Lambs too. No, I only really eat chicken here; it’s safer that way.

      Thanks Frigginloon!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 10, 2009 | Reply

  3. I’m with Matt-Man. I am still laughing, though I feel appropriately guilty for laughing at your misfortunes.

    I do feel sorry for the pigs, though. I happened to be eating bacon as I was reading, and I’m pretty sure I heard it squeal just the tiniest bit. *shudder*

    Comment by barelyknittogether | December 10, 2009 | Reply

    • My misfortunes are there for us to laugh at. It I don’t laugh I’ll start screaming and probably never stop. You gotta listen to your bacon BKT. It’s great to see you again!

      Thanks BKT!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 10, 2009 | Reply

  4. I once had to help hold down a full grown pig while a guy cut his nuts. The screaming was intense and it looked me right in the eye pleading and I swear I felt it’s leg break because I was holding so tight. Never, ever, ever will I be party to an event like that again. Also in Antigua I was witness to an early morning cow butchering where my friend kept missing with the knife to kill it quickly. Primal stuff man, very primal.

    Comment by Micky-T | December 10, 2009 | Reply

    • Damn I don’t know which of those two stories are worse…damn. Yea, growing up in the city, I was never exposed to this type of thing. I think if I would’ve seen it when I was little I’d probably only eat fish. As it is I mostly live on chicken. At least they have tiny brains.

      Thanks Micky!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 10, 2009 | Reply

  5. Man o man Scott . . . where to begin? The pig event would send me on long walks, talking to myself and attracting strange spanish nicknames that included the word “loco” . . .

    Perhaps the pet’s behavior is some kind of read on the surrounding madness, but that would push me closer to the rubber room, or a good bottle of mesacal with a worm pumped fat full of visionary escapism. Ah . . . memories.

    Thanks for sharing, and I’m not being a wiseass. I was trying to envision the river of blood from when you described it before, and now to actually see the remnants is unbelievable. They would definately label me loco for live-trapping mice. Perhaps I really am a tree huggin’ Buddhist after all.

    Good lord, Scott. We really have to look back on this one over beers some day. “The Bay of Pigs” should’ve remained in the history books, as a political move! Wow. Damn deep post!

    Comment by Dan McGinley | December 10, 2009 | Reply

    • That’s funny Dan; I go on long walks, muttering to myself daily. But that’s just the way I roll naturally. I’m not sure what the locals call me though they always cross the street when they see me coming.

      There is no doubt that the surrounding ‘madness’ or ‘vibe’ or whatever other name we could put on it affects us all. I read somewhere that all animals, except domesticated pets live entirely in the present moment. So pets definitely pick up on our complete insanity. Crazy.

      Thanks Dan!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 11, 2009 | Reply

  6. This is the point where you get on facebook and post “Life is good” as your status update.

    Our cats also used to get a wild hair up their asses back when they were younger and less fat. Now they need a hoveround built specifically for a pussy to carry that kind of activity out.

    Comment by Candice | December 10, 2009 | Reply

    • My life is so amazing….I’m such a baaad assss! That was a great post.

      I usually love when they do that, it’s entertaining as hell. I’ve never seen a cat’s tail get as fluffy as this cat’s. But I just cannot believe that he did that. He knows the damn thing’s hot; he lays in front of it every night.

      Thanks Candice!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 11, 2009 | Reply

  7. If people watched animals being killed and butchered, then they would eat a lot more vegetables. That’s why I never watch animals being slaughtered.

    Also, I’m pretty sure carrots scream in pain when they’re ripped out of the ground.

    I’ve heard pigs squeal in pain like that before. It’s actually pretty heart wrenching.

    But, I’m with Matt-Man. This post was pretty hilarious. haha 😉

    Comment by Jay | December 10, 2009 | Reply

    • I agree with you Jay. Many of us are never exposed to it our whole lives. And I for one was a lot happy in my ignorance. As are most people about most things. I usually eat chicken 5 or 6 nights a week and that doesn’t bother me as much because they have tiny brains and death is quick. It kills me when the animals are semi-intelligent and have to suffer. I still have a weakness for beef though.

      I find it funny too, it’s either laugh or scream..and I’d rather laugh.

      Thanks Jay!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 11, 2009 | Reply

  8. Poor pigs, poor kitty

    Comment by nursemyra | December 10, 2009 | Reply

    • Kitty is getting better! The pigs..not so much.

      Thanks Nursemyra!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 11, 2009 | Reply

  9. I always feel better when people laugh at my pain and something tells me you’re like that as well

    the part about your wife crying on the terrace gave me the chills though, I would have been the same
    hugs to her

    if you have aloe cream you can put it on the cat’s paws but then you’ll need to either bandage the paws or put a cone around him, I had to do this once for 3 weeks – I went thru several dozen rolls of gauze and then turned to baby socks and rubber bands

    I’m so sorry this all sucked so much
    hugs to you too

    Comment by dianne | December 10, 2009 | Reply

    • Yea, I’ve always tried to entertain people to take my own suffering down a level. It must be that half-Irish blood or something. Did I mention that alcohol helps greatly?

      Thanks for the wifely sympathy, she appreciates it. I tried to put antibacterial stuff on his paws and wrap it, but he’s way too stubborn. I had to take it off before he chewed off his own paw to get it off. He’s almost back to normal now at least.

      Thanks Dianne!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 11, 2009 | Reply

  10. And you think I should move to Spain to avoid -37 Temperatures? Neighbours butchering in the back yard doesn’t really appeal. At least you found a bit of humour in your weekend, poor kitty, tea tree oil works well for burns too.

    Comment by Reb | December 10, 2009 | Reply

    • Yea, I still think you should. Or at least Florida. I just hate the cold so much. The butchering is not really indicitive of Spain as much as the part of Spain we are currently in. Rural as hell. I’ve never heard of tree oil, I’ll have to check it out, I manage to burn myself often too.

      Thanks Reb!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 11, 2009 | Reply

  11. Wow – some delightfully crazy times their Scott.

    I hope you get some yummy bacon and ham.

    Comment by David | December 11, 2009 | Reply

    • I do love me some bacon on occasion but I think I’ll skip this particular bacon. And for some reason I’ve always hated ham. Too salty and fatty. I always cook a lasagna for myself on Easter. Well, before I moved here and couldn’t get Ricotta. Or Mozzarella. Or lasagna noodles.

      Thanks David!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 11, 2009 | Reply

  12. I still can’t get over the part about the pigs.

    I’m just glad I wasn’t there, or I’d probably still be lying in the fetal position, rolling back and forth on the ground and crying for my mother. For real.

    It was bad enough hearing the stories when I was in Honduras…I haven’t eaten pig since.

    Chicken on the other hand…

    Comment by bschooled | December 11, 2009 | Reply

    • From what I’ve heard the swine situation in most of South America is deplorable. That’s what started the whole swine flu shit. What kills me is that they are semi-intelligent and gentle animals, as are cows. If they just used that gun that dude used in No Country for Old Men, I’d feel better. As long as it’s quick. Still, I mostly only eat chicken as well.

      Don’t worry this won’t happen again, not while I’m here. It’s now illegal to have livestock in the ‘town’ limits. If he tries to bring in pigs next year….I’m denouncing his ass.

      Thanks B!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 11, 2009 | Reply

  13. Seriously…..I’m sorry, dude. That’s some awful shit.
    And, I’m sorry but reading that makes me think that it’s not all moonlight and roses living in a foreign country.

    At least not last weekend, right?

    Comment by Candy | December 11, 2009 | Reply

    • You’re right about that Candy. It never is all roses and wine anywhere. Except maybe the beaches of Costa Rica. I assume this really wouldn’t be mush different than living is a rural town in America though either. I hear they have pig roasts weekly in the summer of hick towns. The problem is, I’m a city boy and was never exposed to any of this until now.

      Thanks Candy!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 11, 2009 | Reply

  14. Powerful stuff, Scott. A great read all the way through.

    Two things that struck me and headed off before I could get the license plate…

    1. If you’re not using your blog to complain, it’s time to hand in those blog keys and the middle row of your keyboard. If God didn’t want us to bitch verbosely, he wouldn’t have given us ten fingers and a deep well of resentment.

    2. Pig slaughtering stories ought to draw in the crowd you haven’t been able to reach with your previous posts. You should be expecting an entire new group of unbalanced fetishists any minute now…

    Comment by Capitalist Lion Tamer | December 11, 2009 | Reply

    • Thanks for the compliments CLT; I wasn’t sure about the actual writing. And of course you make two very good points. I just have to watch that I don’t complain too much about things in my own life on my blog or in person. Once I start, it’s too hard to stop.

      I hadn’t even thought of the ramifications of doing another ‘butchering’ post. My God….I am going to become The GOTO site for all things twisted. How can I make a dollar off of this?

      Thanks CLT!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 11, 2009 | Reply

  15. No witty remarks, I got nothing. But I did enjoy reading what you wrote, with appropriate apologies to the entire procine family. Thanks for the vignette.

    Comment by fundamentaljelly | December 11, 2009 | Reply

    • All apologies are gratefully accepted by the surviving members of the porcine family. The also wanted to know where their damned flowers were?

      And you’re welcome. It’s my pleasure to provide you with easy vignetting.

      Thanks FJ!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 11, 2009 | Reply

  16. Killing pigs with a butter knife? Lazy bastards. We used twine, unripened fruit and old boots to kill pigs in my day.

    Comment by Donald Mills | December 11, 2009 | Reply

    • These damn lazy kids today. They couldn’t even be bothered to sharpen the butter knife.

      I’m curious how the unripened fruit fit in though?

      Thanks Don!!

      Comment by Scott Oglesby | December 11, 2009 | Reply

  17. Full tard. Goodness… That’s a hell of weekend. I guess that’s a luxury of America I take for granted, not having to tell the neighbor, “Excuse me, but your animal blood is running onto my porch.” You’re life is so exotic and exciting!

    Comment by Ramblin' Rooster | December 14, 2009 | Reply


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