Za ROOOsky

(September 21, 2006)

I don't know what "Za ROOOsky" means. It's just something that's been in my head. I can't stop saying it. Za ROOOOsky.

Something smells like feet in our kitchen. Like old milk and feet. Like old milk on a dead guy's feet. I think it's something in the garbage. I think we need to take out that bag of garbage.

I don't like to take it out 'til it's garbage day. Because speaking of garbage day...

...is FIVE too high a number of rats? To see? On my way home from work? A fifteen minute walk? I saw five rats tonight. Not all together, either. I mean peppered along my walk home. Five seems like a high number of rats. And that was just today. I bet I've seen four or five rats a few nights a week all summer. What the fucking fuck? Is it all the construction and road work? My whole walk home has construction and roadwork going on. Each road I walk along, and each road I cross. One building on Long Ave being totally gutted and re-built, one elaborate shoring-up of a building on Parkville, one multi-site road or sewer project on Cambridge Street. Are they scaring the rats up from the underworld?

There are also mice.

The only leg where there are no mice or rats, there are cats. Five cats. The Screaming Meemies of Denby Road. Those are some mean, feral cats. I just think maybe we need more cats. There would be no rats and mice if this building, and the surrounding properties, could have cats.

I miss cats.

Za ROOOOsky.