I have an old friend.
My best friend since pretty much the beginning of time.
You can check out her blog here. The Illusion of Flying.
She's super nice, super funny, and super cute. Go-go-go follow her!
And now, for the new friend.
This little guy:
Eet's a wittle raccoon!!!
Well, a big, fat raccoon.
I had people over to buy some of my furniture the other day and didn't want to have a bag of trash sitting in the kitchen while they were deciding what to take - so I just left it outside.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, most people have those big trashcans for their trash to live in outside.
Somehow, in the year that I've lived in this apartment, I have yet to get one.
A little late now, donchya think?
I, of course, forgot that I left the trash outside until it was actually trash day.
I'm sitting outside, smoking a cigarette and lounging all over my patio furniture - I find the strangest positions when I'm getting comfortable - and as I turn my head to flick the ashes, I see a fat, little raccoon sneaking up behind me.
He literally was in rogue assassination mode.
The moment our eyes locked, he froze.
Then he slowly circled around behind my lawn chair and proceeded to go to town on a bag of bread that was too high calorie to be kept in the house.
|Om nom nom!|
Apparently this bread was so fucking fantastically delicious, that little Mr. Raccoon didn't mind me taking about 30 pictures of him eating.
I can be so inconsiderate sometimes....
I hate it when people watch me eat, but I will fucking take picture after picture of a poor, innocent raccoon eating his dinner.
He was too goddamned adorable not to torture with flash photography.
A bientôt, lovelies.