I have no idea what Tunch caught in the yard and ate, but if I had to guess it was a mole. Regardless, he decided to share it with me, without me having any say in the matter, as he climbed into my bed and vomited up what can only be described as thick, bloody, rotten viscous filth all over my comforter and sheets.
I’ve stopped dry heaving and think I finally have my gag reflex under control, showered, and changed the sheets, thrown Tunch into the basement, but I think we may have reached a new high (low?) for ways my pets have traumatized me. I was already up way later than I wanted because the Pens had to go into overtime before losing, so I read and waited until the 1 am showing of the Psych finale), I finally fall asleep, am blissfully spooning Lily, and then this.
I don’t know how you people deal with babies and their vomit and green poo, but it is stuff like this that makes me realize how lucky I am to be a bachelor. Except I really haven’t avoided anything, have I, since I just get dead decomposed animals on my bed rather than runny shits in the diaper?
You know when you were a kid and got car sick, and those glands underneath your tongue produced all the saliva and you had that metallic taste in your mouth and you kept swallowing it, hoping to keep from throwing up? That’s where I’ve been for the last fifteen minutes.
Linda Featheringill
There used to be a commercial featuring a actress named Sandy-something with the punch line of “Life is messy. Clean it up.”
There are alternative lifestyles, of course. With no mushing, no purring, no cuddles, and no spooning. But cleaner.
Scuffletuffle
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah…{wipes eyes}hahahahahahahahahahahah!
Try removing the lower half of an aged dead rabbit from a closet in your basement…
Lost my gag reflex long ago.
Hal
And I’m guessing Tunches’ attitude is that he went through all that trouble to make you dinner, and this is the thanks he gets? Where’s Alicia Silverstone’s baby?
Mustang Bobby
I don’t have a cat, but when Sam — my dog — was alive, he used to hawk up some amazing things, usually right where I wanted to step. Yeah, the gag reflex knows its stuff.
I also used to be a camp counselor for kids aged 9 to 11. Those little rascals could barf all over their bunks on cue…as long as the cue was 2:00 a.m.
My sympathies, John. (FYI, MSNBC reruns Rachel Maddow at 4:00 a.m. ET in case you need something else to watch.)
Horrendo Slapp (formerly Jimperson Zibb, Duncan Dönitz, Otto Graf von Pfmidtnöchtler-Pízsmőgy, Mumphrey, et al.)
The thing about that is that it’s a whole lot more upsetting when you’re thinking about it. Before our child was born, I spent 9 months fretting about wiping her shit off her ass, and about her throwing up all the time.
Once she was born, and I was dealing with the shit and spew itself, rather than some hyped-up version in my own mind, it wasn’t any big deal at all. I mean, wiping her ass wasn’t any more awful than wiping my own ass. And the stuff babies throw up isn’t puke at all. It’s just the food the’ve just eaten and can’t quite handle, maybe because it was too much or they ate it too fast. So it’s like spilt food: a hassle, but not more than that. It’s nothing like when somebody throws up for real. That’s nasty, but she’s only done that once in 5 years.
I’m kind of deadened to really nasty stuff, though, over the last year and a half, since our older dog no longer has a reliable bladder. A puddle a day on average these days, so I get lots of work cleaning up after that. Nothing fazes me any more…
Studly Pantload, the emotionally unavailable unicorn
Oy, the title to this post shows up on my Android (in potrait, my preferred view) as “Yet Another Nig…” I was gonna say, Rick Santorum called, and he wants his awkward back.”
Peace out, and things of this nature …
Studly Pantload, the emotionally unavailable unicorn
Dumb old duplicate post..
Studly Pantload, the emotionally unavailable unicorn
On point, I can never understand when my FB friends post of their toddlers, “My child is growing up too quickly, I want my baby back!”
All I can think is, If that were my kid, I’d be bitching about “When are you getting out of your diapers, and getting your own driver’s license and apartment!?”
David Fud
The pets throw up much worse things than the kids, and more often. I cleaned an unidentified puddle of the most awful stuff yesterday and couldn’t stop gagging from the smell. Meanwhile, the cleanups from potty training are simple and not-completely-awful.
Sign me up for a kid any day, really. It is more consistent work, though.
HobbesAI
Mole? Check for tentacle parts. From your description it sounds like Tunch was eating Cthulhu.
Q.Q. Moar
Great. Now Thymezone can come here and bitch about how he can’t eat while he reads BJ.
R-Jud
The best is when they team up. Last week Tully, the Gender-Confused Cat, brought in a blackbird sometime early in the morning, dissected it, and left it in the kitchen.
The Bean went downstairs before Mr Jud and I were awake. She came up into our bedroom carrying various bits of dead bird and laughing about it.
Steam cleaning for everyone!
amk
Comparing cats with kids ? You’re nutz. At least, the kids lurn.
AA+ Bonds
I remember the first time my baby crawled into my bed and vomited up a bloody animal corpse
AA+ Bonds
I CAN’T EAT WHILE I GET A BJ :(
Randy P
My wife still talks fondly of the year she received half a bunny from our tabby (now long since gone) on her birthday. It was the good half too, with the legs and haunches. Lots of meat.
But that was tastefully presented at the front door. Outside. What we get inside, thank FSM, usually seems to be undigested purina cat chow. Cleans up quick, and practically odorless.
I think people throw-up is much worse.
Is this a great morning-coffee-over-breakfast thread or what?
Joey Maloney
@AA+ Bonds:
Me, too.
John, I would’ve thought after all these years of reading Michelle Malkin and John Derbyshire you’d have your gag reflex under better control.
When I lived in the country our cats were fierce hunters. One of them liked to catch a bird and tear out its tailfeathers first so it couldn’t fly, then torture and eat it at leisure. Another one was fond of voles and so severely overhunted them around the house that we had a slug population explosion. If you want ooky, try squishing a tamale-sized slug between your toes on the kitchen floor first thing in the morning. Hardly a day went by when the entrails of some rodent or bird or something were, if not left on the back porch, horked up somewhere in the house.
Now I live in a rooftop apartment in the city. The only thing they have to hunt are urban pigeons who are way too smart for them. I feel bad for them but c’est la vie.
Montarvillois
I have had over the years 4 long-lived cats. I believe non-feral cats will capture, kill, and instinctively drop the whole creature in the vicinity of the family doorstep, bringing home the bacon if you will. Tunch spending her formative years as an indoor cat is now starting to learn the laws of the jungle and vomiting that mole couldn’t have been a pleasant experience. Probably never happen again.
Joey Maloney
@AA+ Bonds:
Me, too.
John, I would’ve thought after all these years of reading Michelle Malkin and John Derbyshire you’d have your gag reflex under better control.
When I lived in the country our cats were fierce hunters. One of them liked to catch a bird and tear out its tailfeathers first so it couldn’t fly, then torture and eat it at leisure. Another one was fond of voles and so severely overhunted them around the house that we had a slug population explosion. If you want ooky, try squishing a tamale-sized slug between your toes on the kitchen floor first thing in the morning. Hardly a day went by when the entrails of some rodent or bird or something were, if not left on the back porch, horked up somewhere in the house.
Now I live in a rooftop apartment in the city. The only thing they have to hunt are urban pigeons who are way too smart for them. I feel bad for them but c’est la vie.
Schlemizel
My favorite poo was the one where the kid got into his cousins crayola box, the one with the sharpener in the back, and eat all the crayon shavings. Thats one you for sure have to show your partner at least!
My wife can’t control her gag reflex around vomit smell so I always got to deal with the sick kid stuff. You get used to it.
One of our cats never seems to hoark up at all the other does it way too often to make up for it. We had to shut them out of the bedroom because it cost $40 to get the down comforter cleaned.
Joey Maloney
I had nothing to do with that double post. I swear I only clicked the submit button once.
…In case anyone was losing sleep over the possibility, Charles Manson has just been denied parole again.
Johannes
Yeah, this is why our crew don’t get to go outside. Well, that and the fact that we live in Brooklyn, where the rats have built their own civilization.
Johannes
Yeah, this is why our crew don’t get to go outside. Well, that and the fact that we live in Brooklyn, where the rats have built their own civilization.
Captain Howdy
Minutes before reading this, my cat C-Word was blowing chunks while making ghastly hacking and heaving sounds on the kitchen floor (for once she didn’t spew on the couch or a rug). Seconds later she’s on my lap, purring contentedly and licking her crotch.
Did you know that Shakespeare coined the word ‘puke’? True story. (“As You Like It”)
Joey Maloney
The National Police Misconduct Statistics and Reporting Project is an invaluable resource for monitoring bad behavior among law enforcement officers nationwide. The site owner is having to give up the project due to real life, so he’s allowing his readership to vote on who should take over the site from a list of people and orgs that have expressed interest.
Unfortunately, one of those orgs is the CATO institute – you know, the one currently in the midst of a Koch brothers hostile takeover? And they’re currently leading the poll.
If this is an area of interest for you, please go to http://www.injusticeeverywhere.com/?p=5316 and VOTE FOR SOMEONE ELSE. Personally, I favor Jesse Strauss, a journalist currently working for Al Jazeera English. His proposal seems the best thought out. So I’d suggest voting for him, but really, ABC (Anyone But Cato). Voting closes 8am Pacific time Friday.
Jim Pharo
John, you must always use your Powers Of Narrative Description(tm) for good, not evil.
‘Nuff said.
kindness
Tunch is lucky boy. Good that he’s a decent hunter. Check on him though. Might have been something wrong with the mole for him to spit it up like that. Critters too have a gag reflex for a reason most times.
chopper
you stop and think about how awesome they’re going to be when they’re 3 years older.
of course, this does not work with a dog or a cat.
MattF
I remember a party some years ago where parents were comparing feats of projectile shitting by their progeny. Edifying, in a sense.
greennotGreen
You know what’s great about reading this post first thing in the morning? My day will probably only improve from now on.
I’d actually forgotten about the gag reflex. I’ve been fostering dogs for rescue for a few years now (currently have six plus nine of my own,) and I’ve mopped up, picked up, shoveled up just about everything.
One of my fosters is a very cute chihuahua – really big eyes, looks like he’s smiling all the time. The other day we were out in the yard and he pops up with his big eyes shining and happy little face with a flattened, dessicated rat as big as he is. I took it away and threw it in the trash. Ten minutes later he had another one.
SiubhanDuinne
@Captain Howdy:
“At first, the feline,
Mewling and puking in the master’s bed….”
@Joey Maloney:
Done. You might want to repost this bleg in a thread people are less likely to turn from in disgust.
Elmo
Payback the cat used to decapitate chipmunks and then bring the heads inside. He would deposit them in the tub and play hockey, leaving swirls of blood alllllll up and down the sides.
Fun times.
chopper
@Scuffletuffle:
i think i’ve seen you on the internet.
gnomedad
@David Fud:
I’d be quite upset if one of my pets threw up a kid. I can’t imagine something worse.
HeartlandLiberal
We have become inured to this phenomenon. We have three cats, all proficient hunters. They are indoor / outdoor. We had a tunnel for them built through the wall at lower level, which is double framed for double insulation depth, so it is about a foot long. It has a flap on the interior. During bitter cold, they are locked in and it is sealed. Rest of the year, they come and go on their on schedule.
They have gifted us with quite a few creatures, dead and alive, over the years. The berber carpet downstairs hides the stains better than the stairwell carpet, one of their favorite snack spots.
We live backed onto a golf course and woods on a deadend circle at back end of a closed loop neighborhood. Low traffic. Our only real fear is we have coyotes in the woods. But the cats are healthy and happy, and we regularly have cats cared for in this manner live to between 17 – 19 years of age. This really irritates some of our friends who freak because we do not lock the cats up inside and “protect” them. Not sure I would like such a life style, why inflict it on our cats?
Occasionally the creatures are still alive, and we capture and release them.
Right now, I wish they would focus on the moles who have been tearing my yard up. I refuse to use poison on them.
Lavocat
Or how ’bout blood-curdling howls from your dog in the middle of the fucking night?
Because he apparently woke from a nightmare.
Holy mother o’ god, nothing gets the juices flowing quite like thinking there is an intruder in your house in the middle of the night. While you are (were) sleeping.
Try to get back to sleep after something like THAT!
ET
John I don’t mean to make light of what was obviously a truly grotesque situation, buuuuuuut.
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
CynDee
I don’t know how you people deal with babies and their vomit and green poo, but it is stuff like this that makes me realize how lucky I am to be a bachelor. Except I really haven’t avoided anything, have I, since I just get dead decomposed animals on my bed rather than runny shits in the diaper?
the fugitive uterus
sad, you don’t recognize a gift when you see it, even when conveniently delivered to your bed
Carnacki
Poor Tunch! He just wanted some comfort while feeling bad and you exiled him. Poor, poor Tunch.
Keith G
Ten hours beforehand, Thymezone nails it.
Lojasmo
@Schlemizel:
My favorite was after a half a box of rainbow ‘nila wafers. came outin a big ball of clumpy rainbow colored poo.
Carnacki
Since we’re talking about poo, here is The shittiest diary ever in the history of DailyKos.
Marcellus Shale, Public Dick
it could be worse, i mean you could literally have rats fucking in your bed.
Ronzoni Rigatoni
Good gawd! Nearly every wild creature known to Florida save tea partiers and assorted members of the Sanford PD ended up in the house. Live snakes, fruit rats, baby rabbits, moles, birds (except blue jays), bats, and cetera. Fortunately alligators would not fit through the cat doors. And this was just one damned cat. The dawg loved it. Something to bark about.
Jamey
Was it the Fox News mole?
Jamey
@Captain Howdy: Rule of thumb for English-language phrase origins: If it wasn’t the Bible, it was Shakespeare; if it wasn’t the Bible or Shakespeare, it was Twain.
Paul in KY
Surprised he tried to eat a mole. My observation has been that they must not taste good, as my cats will kill them, but never eat them (whereas they kill & eat the birds & voles & whatnot).
Must say though that I’ve never tried a mole myself. I bet if I sauted it in a garlic sauce, it would be edible.
WJS
Love is the antidote to the thing that makes you want to barf.
Triassic Sands
If you don’t “appreciate” feline vomitus, you probably shouldn’t invite a cat to share your home. Because if you do, the little fur ball will undoubtedly reciprocate by sharing the contents of its stomach with you — often.
For us, vomiting means sickness; to a cat it’s just sport.
Tone In DC
@Johannes:
LULz.
JoyfulA
@Joey Maloney: Thanks for pointing this out. I agree with you, and I tweeted. Here’s hoping.
Tone In DC
@Elmo:
That is just WRONG.
And I truly hope he didn’t have an old hockey mask, like this one.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Jasonmask.jpg
Tall Tom
What are the odds that the behemoth known as Tunch is quick enough to catch anything that isn’t already dead?
realbtl
The difference between pets and kids?
“…thrown Tunch into the basement…”
Can’t do that with kids, even though you sometimes really want to.
ilsalund
I feel you. A few years ago, my (now) late cat, the very elderly Clover, climbed on my chest at 3 AM and started heaving. I opened my eyes just in time to see projectile vomit flying toward my face. Yep, cat threw up on my face.
ohsuzanna
And thank you so very much for passing on the dry heaving. Damn, I have a good imagination. YUCK.
muddy
@Randy P:
My cat used to bring me the front half of rabbits, cut neatly behind the shoulders. Took the butt and guts for himself I guess. I used to watch him hunt voles in the garden, there was an area with black plastic over it and he would herd the voles who were underneath over to the edge. Then he’d slip his paw underneath and snatch them, pretty slick! I saw him tree a mouse one day, he was 25′ up out on a thin limb, the mouse was further out on a thinner one. The mouse dropped, the cat had to climb back down, so sad.
Yesterday my dog caught a mourning dove, and ate the head. The cats sat poking at the body hopefully, but no more fun to be had. Well, until he threw up the head. If there’s anything worse sounding than heaving up and splat, it’s that plus a click when the beak hits the floor. He was willing to give it another try, but mean mommy stole his snack (and didn’t even eat it! so rude)
muddy
Maybe John does not feed Tunch enough, poor wee cat has to forage on his own.
Rosalita
This leaving the door open at night for the animals isn’t working out too well is it? Or did he gorge earlier in the evening? Sorry, that’s some pretty nasty shit you had to deal with, I’d be gagging too.
Can I suggest dark colored sheets?
AliceBlue
I’m dealing with an elderly feline (one of three) who decided to start using the dining room carpet as her litter box. I moved one of the litter boxes out of the laundry room and into the dining room and thankfully, Her Majesty has consented to use it. Problem solved. The bad news is that I now have a litter box in my dining room.
acallidryas
As I think people above have pointed out, kids learn. My son will be potty trained soon. But I’ve been cleaning up cat litter and things my cat throws up for 6 years and counting.
RAVEN
Here’s a tip. If you are doing a prsentation at a conference at a state park “lodge” do not count on an wireless internet connection!
Caladan
LOL,
Just wait until you find a mummified mouse under your couch or bed. Tunch didn’t deliberately throw it up, Cats don’t do that. most likely his system couldn’t handle the richness of the vermin.
My Cats over the years have presented me with the following dead things: mice, moles, baby squirrels, rabbits, birds, and snakes. the most disturbing of which is just the severed head of said pray.
Deb T
Thanks for sharing every body. I have 2 1/2 cats and my mother’s aged Shih Tzu. Nuff said.
Lojasmo
My cats stay indoors, and my dog stays off furniture. The day I need a litterbox in my dining room is the day a cat dies.
David Fud
@gnomedad: Throwing up on each other, possibly, or the ipecac Puke contest Family Guy episode.
CaseyL
Best. Morning. Thread. Ever!!
I had no idea Tunch was such a mighty hunter. Moles are good-sized critters, compared to a cat; and Tunch is, let us say, not the sveltest swiftest guy around.
OTOH, maybe he’s sick and tired of being mocked for his size, and has become bulimic. So he gets the excitement of the hunt, the gratification of catching and eating his own food… and then pukes so he doesn’t gain weight.
One of my kitties – the late, great Ariel – used to vomit so frequently, for no reason, I decided it was her idea of a hobby.
Tissue Thin Pseudonym (JMN)
@Caladan:
Tell that to my little drama queen. When she feels neglected (i.e. I go fifteen minutes without letting her tie up my arms) she eats a little bit of a plastic bag that she knows will make her puke.
Jennifer
The throwing up part he couldn’t help.
The on the bed part – that was on purpose.
My kitty is quite the accomplished hunter, but she only eats the head of every other kill and leaves the rest of the body on the doorstep. Every other one she leaves whole – those are the ones she expects ME to eat. Usually they’re rats or chipmunks, but there is an occasional bird or vole, and one time, a snake. She’s never heaved up anything she’s killed in the house, but she does have a yack attack every few weeks – bless her, she always does it on a hard surface. Usually just clear liquid with some grass mixed in. But it really upsets her – even after I clean it up, she’ll cut a wide berth around the spot where she yacked for several days, as if “that spot in the floor made me puke!”
hilzoy
Ha. Nils was, in his prime, a mighty hunter, and I got to the point where I could tell the difference between the intestines of various species, what with all the times he left them on my doorstep. He, for his part, seemed to recognize the phrase: “Nils! Viscera! For me!” Luckily, I’ve always been pretty hard to gross out.
I read somewhere that the reason cats deposit guts on the doorstep is not, as we like to think, as a gift, but because that’s what cats do to kittens who need to be taught how to hunt: they start with dead things, work up to stunned things, and ease the kitten into mighty hunter-hood. I have no idea whether this is true, but I’ve always liked the idea that all those corpses were just Nils’ attempt to deal with the fact that I am plainly incompetent at catching mice and birds.
The bedroom is different, though. My worst experience on that score involved waking up to a sort of thrashing noise, only to realize, at first through a haze of sleep and then with horror, that one of my cats had caught a pigeon and had brought it, wounded but still alive, into the bedroom, where he (I think it was Nils) was taking his own sweet time about actually killing it, while the poor bird thrashed for what remained of its life. I have repressed the memory of how I dealt with that.
Mnemosyne
Our kitties are indoor-only, but Keaton makes up for it on the vomit front by presenting us with some truly epic hairballs. Apparently, being the top cat of our little pack, he’s in charge of making sure everyone is properly groomed at all times, so he leaves some impressive deposits on the carpet.
Culture of Truth
So how’s that long war with Tunch going again?
Jade Jordan
Thanks for oversharing Cole. Gross, I was just postphoned lunch.
Elizabelle
Any chance whatsoever that mole died from an encounter with rat poison or another toxic substance?
Because Tunch the mighty clearly consumed something that was already dead. Above ground or easy pickings.
Only mention this because NYC’s hawks are falling victim to poison in the rats they capture.
No idea if this is a threat to you in WV.
Comrade Mary
This one time, John, I’m not going to ask for a picture.
Alabama Blue Dot
@Scuffletuffle: I once came home from a weekend trip to find the head of a rabbit on my bed and its decomposing body in the kitchen. Good practice for being a mother, I might add.
opie jeanne
My daughters objected to finding cold mouse heads in their shoes in the morning, just before school. I can’t think why.
brendancalling
my cat Elvis caught his first mouse last week. After warding off our other cat, he proceeded to devour it.
Then he vomited it up in our second floor hallway, which is not well lit. And then my g/f, who was barefoot, stepped in a cold pile for stomach bile and entrails.
BruceJ
Cue Monty Python skit:
“Dead Mole, Bah! Luuuxury!”
One time one of our cats leapt up on the bed in the middle of the night, woke up my wife, then dropped a LIVE sewer roach on her face for her to play with…
And hilzoy, another cat that owned me once dragged in a fledgling thrasher chick, alive, screeching at the top of it’s lungs and deposited it under the coffee table in the living room, in front of guests…and BOY can thrasher thrasher chicks can screech.
eyelessgame
Yeah, what they said. I’m a dad – I changed diapers for something like eight years, I’ve been vomited on dozens of times and cleaned it up dozens more. And your story grosses me out – my kids never did anything remotely as bad as this. I’d have horked my dinner too.
(My worst was being unmistakeably confronted with rather direct evidence that one of my kids was regularly swallowing full-sized fettucine noodles without chewing them. At all.)
danielx
Once you’ve dealt with Fukushima-type diapers, everything else is pretty much run of the mill. But our cats have brought in both live and dead birds, one live rabbit, and I once came downstairs to find Eric the cat (think of a longhaired version of Tunch) lying in the middle of a pile of bloody feathers in the kitchen with the look of the just on his face…the just plain satisfied. You miss out on this kind of thing when you work in an office…
CynDee
@Tissue Thin Pseudonym (JMN): Hmm. Maybe Tunch is jealous of that Lily person sleeping in Master’s bed . . .
BenA
@Jamey:
And if it wasn’t Twain, it was Yogi Berra.
hehehehe
RedKitten
Yeah, I’d take vomit and green poo any day before I’d take decomposing animals. That’s nasty.
Mind you, there WAS the day that SamKitten yakked down the front of my top 5 minutes before I had to leave for work. I hastily changed my top, bundled him into the car, and off we went. I kept smelling puke, but thought it was just that the smell had gotten into my nostrils and taken up residence.
Once I got to work, and went to use the washroom, I took a quick peek down my top and realized that there was a puddle of puke inside of my bra, nestled nicely in between my boobs.
There is nothing quite as invigorating as sitting at one’s desk, trying to finish a report, while wearing a bra that is still wet from its hasty washing in the office sink.
Teresa
LOL! If I wasn’t laughing so hard John I’d dry vomit with you.
J Doe
Woke up the other night and one of the little darlings – cat? dog? – had puked up some grossness on my hand. Charming.
I wouldn’t trade them for a million bucks. And they still take up too much room on the bed.
Barbara
My canine baby is 13 pounds and can jump onto counters so every holiday is an exercise in cleaning up chocolate smelling vomit. It doesn’t smell bad but it’s really hard to get out of the carpet. I have yelled at my human kids a gazillion times in the hope of not having them leave chocolate out on the counter or in their backpacks — but if the dog can’t exactly learn, it’s also the case that the kids can’t exactly listen. It’s hard to say who’s more culpable.
Bill Cole
John brings back such cherished memories.
Our former Cat, Chuck (RIP) was a beast. 32 lbs of corpulent English Grey attitude. 12 years ago the Family was trying to get out of the house in the morning, tripping over each other amidst cries of “Where’s my Bookbag!”. At which point the Grau Engel, slaughterer of all small mammals in the Cul-de-sac, comes from outside into the kitchen.
While three small children and two adults jockey for space, Chuck wretches twice, and out blossoms a gelatinous, bloody, mass with a long scaly tail. Pandemonium ensues.
My children start running in circles shouting “Ack! (gag), Ack! (gag)” while the wife dry heaves into the kitchen sink. Between heaves she points at me with a look that says “He’s your Cat.”
Swallowing a runny gorge of coffee and the day’s threat of office politics, I get to work. There are few choicer moments in life than picking up a steaming pile of guts that smell like a week-dead GroundHog carcass, all the while trying to keep your tie from falling into the mess.
John, I feel your pain…