Okay. I don’t even know where to start, so this is gonna be a little bit Fight Club, a little bit Tarantino, a little bit David Attenborough and a whole lot of en media res disjointedness:

Today the kitkat was nibbling some treats by the pine tree, and I sat down next to him so we could have some quality time. His dry food ran out today, and the brand he eats is usually an Amazon purchase because it’s only available at one store I’ve found so far (and shockingly it’s a chain in southern Arkansas; I about shit myself from the shock)… anyway… he’s eating a diet of tuna & what I’ve been calling chicken candy bars until we restock his normal food.

The “chicken candy bars” are Rachel Ray cat treats that are crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside, and he doesn’t seem too bummed out about the opulence. The local grocery store had some really garbage cat food, and those… it wasn’t even a maybe.

As I’m sitting next to him, leaned up against one of the nicest pine trees I’ve ever met, I look to the left and there’s an Arkansas DaddyLongLeg… now is the time that’s worth pointing out, these fuckin’ things look like Oklahoma DaddyLongLegs mated with a coyote. They’re enormous, and not at all the delicate, small, adorable things I grew up with. There was a nest of them in the electric box at our last campsite, scared the shit out of me. Anyway… this fuckin’ guy walks up to a piece of chicken candy bar and proceeds to crack it open like a squirrel with a nut and fuckin’ eat it!!! The what?! That’s it. That’s all I have to say about that part. Actually no, that’s not all I have to say… that chicken candy bar is way harder to eat than my eyeballs, or any of my appendages really… fuckin’ terrifying.

It is worth sharing now that the Wikipedia article of DaddyLongLegs is fascinating.

More soon, much Love,

-Effie

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