Who says life isn’t a bowl of worm infested cherries? Seems like every day that goes by is a test of my wits and sanity. Do I unwittingly set myself up for these little disasters? For example, earlier this week, let’s say Tuesday, I get home and smell the distinct odor of rotting flesh. I immediately jump to the conclusion that my fucked up neighbor’s estranged husband finally did her in and that I’m going to have to call the cops. I opened my trash can and there was the ugly smell of garbage, but not dead body. I said fuck it, went inside.
Thursday night I get home after hiking around the hill behind IGT. I feed the beasts, dick around on the Internet, and had myself a wholly unsatisfying peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I cleaned up the living room a bit and took trash out to the can in front of my garage. Oh the fucking horror. I lifted that lid up and was immediately hit in the face with the rancid odor of rotting meat and about 20 flies! The entire inside wall of the trash can was covered by hundreds upon hundreds of maggots. They dropped off the lid onto my arms and feet and all over the driveway. Somewhere deep in my brain stem something shorted out and I completely nutted up, as my friend Justin would say, and shrieked like a little girl as I ran with my hands flailing over my head into the street. My not-so-dead neighbor probably thought I was the one on drugs.
I recovered and accessed the situation. The maggots on the driveway, I refuse to call them grubs because it sounds too cute, were all making a b-line to my garage! I proceeded to stomp the hell out of them, but the tread on my shoes spared too many of them. That’s when I adopted the stomp and drag technique. I gotta tell you, maggots are slippery little bastards! It was a horror show. The trash can had them crawling out all sides from under the lid. Nasty. I took the hose to them. Flooded the gutter with juicy bloated maggots. They wouldn’t die! I lifted the lid and held back the pathological revulsion long enough to spray the inside down. I figured that was good enough. I went inside.
It’s garbage day on Friday. God damn it, I can’t leave it that way for the garbage men. It’s so freaking revolting. They’d throw that lid off, the maggot stew would slosh all over them, and I’d end up with that trash can through my front window, rotting meat and maggots and all. I can’t have that. Back outside I go. I had Ortho Home Defense at the ready. I sprayed the shit out of that can. I should mention that the flooded maggots were back on the inside walls of the trash can, amazing. I put the lid back on as I tried to figure out how to proceed. I need to get all the liquid out of the trash can and then transfer everything to a fresh trash bag, contractor grade of course. I moved the trash can to the curb and tilted it over until a river of milky fluid flooded the gutter. The smell would make even Mike Rowe of Dirty Jobs gag. The gutter and sidewalk looked like I’d spilled a bag of jasmine rice. All of a sudden my other neighbor’s teenage daughter is coming down the sidewalk wearing flip flops and walking a little tiny dog. Fuck! I can’t have her walk through this biological nightmare without warning. I said “you might want to walk around this spot…a little bit of a ‘bug’ problem.”