Dead Weight

Okay, as soon as the sun rises, I will go outside and take a photo of the deer that had to be dragged off of my front yard and put into the woods.

The police would not come and dispose of the deer because it was on private property, so I had to put on industrial strength gardening gloves and drag by one hoof the deer in to the woods.

I had to call my super shady neighbor to help, as the term "dead weight" literally means dead things weigh a lot.

I am still a little spooked that my Facebook update on Saturday night was about my plan to hunt the deer that were eating my shrubs. Perhaps someone read my update and took care of business for me, and left the dead deer on my lawn to show their absolute devotion.

Fuck, now I hope it is not a stalker.

Or a hairy man from the club taking leaving dead deer as a sign inferring that I am next.

Yikes.

Bigger Than ButtFarts

Today I catered a party in Chappaqua, and it went really well. Then I drove to Ridgefield, CT to meet my oldest, closest friend. As we were enjoying a cup of tea, I got a voicemail from Stephen saying “There is a dead deer on the front lawn. What should I do???” all the while with the two kids screaming in the background.

I called Stephen and told him “Do NOT, under any circumstances, perform a burial for the deer. This is a much bigger deal than ButtFarts.” And I told him that we would come up with a plan when I got home.

It is now too dark to do anything with the deer. I am hoping that a coyote or mountain cat (that is rumored to be in the area) will come and take care of it for us.