December 22nd, 2013

scared scrooge

Ohhh, Argh, Yuck!...

Saw a fucked-up dead fox, lying on the Wandsworth Road pavement this morning, and, of course, had a wimpoid turn. It always baffles me how I'm so into violence and gore in fiction; it
can't be too gross for me, but when I see something like the poor fox, I go totally feeble-girlie.
Still got the gastric burble. I'm guiltily going to try some cold, dead, sentient being in a moment. (an ex-chicken-) and see if that helps.
(I can blame my occasional flesh-eating on the op, too. Sometimes I just gotta.)

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