Growing Boa constrictor is more pest than pet. should’ve have.

Adopt a dangerous pet:

There’s a snake in my apartment. He’s a 5 year old boa constrictor with cold unblinking eyes. I got him from the exotic pets’ store in Pawtucket and now I’m starting to regret this whole endeavor.

Recently, I noticed with some concern that I’ve been losing weight at a drastic rate and took it upon myself to remedy that by adopting a sedentary lifestyle ..temporarily of course. I figured I could just laze out and not bother too much with unnecessary activities such as washing my dishes, mopping the floor or vacuuming. As it turns out, having an unkempt living quarters with filthy dishes in the sink left there for days is invigorating given the amount of calories you end up saving. But like a wise douche once proclaimed, “ too much of anything is poison.” I believe whoever it was, was being figurative, but in my case, it has woefully become literal. My whole apartment is a toxic hellhole that the managing director of Chernobyl would have been proud of.

As a result, it goes without saying that rodents, specifically mice, have also found it a very cozy abode and moved in; Imposing upon my serene environment without even signing a lease or at least sending a notification email of their impending housemate status. I think it was a whole family because I could hear the dad and mom arguing in the middle of the night from a mysterious part of my might have been the ceiling, but it’s equally quite possible that it was between the walls. Growing up, I recall very clearly from watching Tom & Jerry that the latter had quite an elaborate setup in between the walls.

Mostly from embarrassment, I made a decision not to alert my landlord about the menace lest he judge me. I opted to instead procure my slithery reptilian friend having had to overcome the herpetophobia. As luck would have it, Cain ( I named him after a sneaky, tattletale coworker) had never been trained to lay mousetraps and would stare at me dumbfounded with those corpse-like unblinking eyes when I tried to hand him one so he could sneak it into the mice’s dwelling as they slept. Instead, he was very efficient at curling up in the living room corner and sleeping all day getting up occasionally to snap at my feet and eat the snake pellets I bought him. Ever so often, he’d also wait for me to fall asleep and try to wrap me up in a death hug but couldn’t quite get a good grip stemming from my now extra poundage especially around the gut area.

I hate to have to release him and find out he gulped up some of my
neighbors’ kids. They’re a sweet bunch except for one who likes to point at my now quite ample gut and laugh wildly. I wouldn’t mind too much if he got gulped, but Cain is too dumb to understand instructions. Any interested parties please respond with your social security and checking account number.

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