As if the torrential rains, floods, a leaky roof and a flaming socket were not enough, it seems that an alligator was found walking around in someone’s back yard in Piscataway, New Jersey. That’s right; I said an ALLI-FAROOKIN’-GATOR was walking around in someone’s yard. In. New. Jersey!!
Police were summoned to the scene, and they, in turn, called the Town’s Animal Control Officer, who ultimately took the three-foot long creature to a local animal shelter. The Animal Control Officer reported that, in 28 years on the job, he had never received an alligator call.
Now, I know that my southern friends like Catfish (who wades into ponds where thirteen foot alligators are known to be lurking) will think that I’m a chicken shit for getting freaked out over a three-foot alligator. I disagree for the following reasons.
First, remember that this is New Goddamned Jersey, not Florida or Georgia.
Second, remember that, before one of these horrible beasts can be thirteen feet long, it has to be three feet long.
Third, I am scared shitless of alligators; I don’t care how goddamned big or small they are.
How did the damned thing get here? I have no idea, but my guess is that some knucklehead thought that it would be “fun” to bring an alligator into the Garden State and turn it loose during the rain. If so, I wish eternal festering carbuncles on the guilty party’s sorry ass.
What’s next? Locusts?
Note: The link to this story, which appeared in the online version of Newsday, was sent to me this morning by That One Guy, who obviously takes great joy in loosening my bowels. When I tried posting the link, the story had been taken down. So, you’ll either have to pay Newsday to be able to read the story, or you can take my word for it. You should know that I would not bullshit about anything as serious and horrible as an alligator walking around the Garden State.