Gay Guru and the Hell Beast!

Why, hello! I trust you’ve managed to just barely survive in my absence.  Yes, I only squeaked through myself. However, my keen sense of intuition tells me you’re excited to hear from me, and I thank you darlings, I do.

Here at The CuT we go crazy for two things, Hell Beasts and Pussy…by which I mean Cougars…by which I mean ruin-your-life/eat-you-in-half-sized cats.  Well, Hell Beast lovers and fans alike, do I have a story for you.

I’ve been holed up in my family’s Glastonbury compound and I had a run-in with a Hell Beast all my own, and it wasn’t just the Anti-Couric hounding me to produce some content neither!

It’s not unusual to see wildlife in the area I live in. Domestic cats aside, at any given moment the yard is lousy with opossums, woodchucks and the like. This past summer, a skunk walked right past me, almost brushing my foot as it calmly (and without spraying me, thank the gay lords!) toddled by.  This fall I was astounded, as a Coyote appeared in the backyard, grand in stature and overlooking the property.

I stepped outside for a cigarette at about 11 p.m. one night this winter and just after I lit up and took an unfulfilling drag, I heard a scuffle of some sort in the side yard. I thought nothing of it.  But, as the scuffle grew into a thud of limbs pounding into the still frozen earth, I had not a second to grow concerned when the Hell Beast ran right effing past me! The monster whipped by, roughly 15 feet from where I was standing! It ducked through a break in the fence that borders our property and disappeared. I was left standing in a puddle of my own pee.

I immediately called the Anti-Couric to report, “A Mountain Lion!! A fucking Mountain Lion!!! A mountain lion just ran past me!!!”

Oh, even recalling the event has me feeling light headed. I’m going to retire to my fainting sofa and hand you over to the Anti-Couric. She’s got to tell you some bullshit about how the CT DEP doesn’t even acknowledge the existence of Mountain Lions in Connecticut and a story of another Mountain Lion run in.  Farewell for now bitches….

The Guru mocks me, but my fear of large cats leads me to seek out tales of fierce felines in the state around me. So, I’ve been poking around and recently I heard a story of a family in my end of the state (you know, the part near Danbury that no one cares about) whose Golden Retriever met a grisly end at the paws of what could only be a Mountain Lion.

From what I hear the family dogs — the retriever and a German Shepherd — were acting funny for a few days. Then one day, they went outside and the Shepherd came back in almost immediately…but the retriever ended up dragged into the woods, windpipe crushed. Now, I’m not one for conspiracy theories, but the official line is that the dog was the victim of coyotes…which is a load of utter shite. A coyote can’t drag a 90 lb dog off into the woods…and certainly wouldn’t do much to freak out two big dogs.

The DEP is still claiming that Mountain Lions don’t live in Connecticut, but I’m starting to think there is some X-Files type ish going on here. They started bringing Fishers back into the state years ago, and now they’re hanging out in the ghetto where my mom lives. Is it such a big leap to think they might be stocking the proverbial pond with Cougars?

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