A guest blog by Ben the Rat-
I Used to be a Sewer Rat once. Not Exactly Proud of that Shit, but Hey.... We Live and Learn.
There are all Different types of Rats. If you Wanna know how many and
what kinds there are, you Can Always Google it or Learn to Read a book.
I'm not your Rat Information Central Encyclopedia. They Call that
R.I.C.E. for Short.
What Kind of Rat am I? I'm Ben. Ben the
Rat. All You Need to Know. But Yeah, Okay ....Fuck me in the Ass Opening
with a Severed Finger if I didn't Used to be a Sewer Rat. Once Again,
there are all Different kinds of Rats. Beyond your Typical Hood Rats and
Domesticated types there are your Sewer Variety. These are so named
because they are in fact homeless and actually call the Sewer their
Home. They prefer the sewer to the streets. I never got that, but to
each his own.
Rats do so enjoy Filth. We can hold our own when
it comes to Getting Down and Dirty. Still, a lot of these Domesticated
types are Spoiled Rotten from their Over Exposure to the Finer things in
Life. A Cage or a "Lair" as it is referred to. Some place more
Comfortable than an Alley or a Ship Yard. All of this shit beats the
Sewer. Man, Let me tell you that Life in the Sewer is no Joke. I seen
things. Things you wouldn't Believe if I told you. I stared Hell in the
Darks of the Eyes and I came Home Scarred but all the More better and
Equipped to Hold my own for it.
I Guess one might say that a
Sewer Rat is a what You Stupid Humans call Hoboes or Bums. It's no
secret that us Rats do so Love to Dunk our Furry Bodies in Toilet Water.
Nothing wrong with it. Hell, Toilet Water is probably Cleaner than the
water you humans drink from the tap or Even purchased from the Alps and
Squirted into a Bottle. Just because some water comes to you sealed in a
Bottle doesn't mean that an army of us Vermin hasn't been Soaking our
Filth in it. I been to the Alps so Fuck You the Next time you Drink a
bottle of Evian and think it tastes odd. Pretty Damn Funny to me.
But
You see, Toilet Water is clean. It's what is Beyond the Bowl wherein
Lies the True Filth. Rats Love to Swim. But only Sewer Rats will Go into
the Bung. Think of it as the Deep Section of your neighborhood pool.
Now imagine that Deep Section all filled up with Stool, and you have an
idea of what I'm saying.
I used to Live in a Mansion with my
Favorite Friend MJ. We had so much Fun together but that Pud Wacker got
too Weird for me, so I had to hit the Fucking Road. So I went from
Living in a Mansion and getting massaged and Serviced Daily to Living on
the Streets. A Rats gotta' do what a Rats gotta' do though.
The Streets is not so Bad. I Lived in a ShipYard over by Felles Point
Once. Saw a lot of Action there. Then I hitched a ride on a Boat up the
river and headed for DC. I lived in a Cubby Hole over Behind U Street. A
lot of Assholes and Junkies live over there. Wasn't really my Bag.
This one time we Made a Rat Camp and there was this cat who used to
come nosing around. Figured he was Looking for a bite of some Rat Salad.
A Bunch of us got together and one night when he was asleep we chewed
all Four of his legs off. Man, that was the funniest shit I have ever
seen. The Stupid Fuck was in the Middle of a dream. Probably chasing
some mice or something and he Jolted awake and tried to take off Running
and all he did was Move about 2 inches and Start up with that meowing
shit. God, I hate that sound. It's like nails on a Chalkboard to a Rat.
Cats are Stupid just like Humans. Only difference is that they have 4
Legs and Humans have 2. Unless you're a Circus Freak or Crippled or
something and you have more or less. But Legs don't mean shit. They're
Sticks. Humans could have 4 legs and Cats could have 8 and Rats would
still despise you both. Worthless the both of you are.
All the
Rat Gang, we was all Laughing at this Legless Fuck Meowing in a Pile of
its own Blood and a Bunch of us Got overtop of it on a Rafter and Let
Forth a Torrent of Rat Droppings on the Prick. The Cat couldn't even
move and it had to just sit there while the Lot of Us just Shit all over
it. By the Time we was all done its Fur was so caked with shit that it
was stuck to the concrete. I even took home one of the legs and gnawed
on it like you would a chicken bone. That fucking thing lasted me almost
a month. Cats have a kind of bizarre after taste. Sort of has a hint of
Pumpkin Pie flavoring to it. Weirdness.Man, that was a Gas though. Good times, Good times.
I Remember I knew this Prom Queen once over in Georgetown on Wisconsin
Avenue. She Lived overtop of a Shoe Store and Used to try to sneak out
at night to gather food scrapings for all her brood. She had a real
problem keeping her legs closed that whore piece.
I
met a Street Urchin named Chewka who said he Banged her once. Hell, one
of those stinking kids might even be his. The thing about Prom Queens
is that they never lose that Queen mentality. It's like no matter what
they do in life, whether they're Blogging for Sex or Picking through
Garbage Cans to feed their illicit Progeny because their tits are dried
up like Raisins and can't produce Bitches Milk anymore, they just never
seem to understand that the world doesn't revolve around them and they
don't know it all. They think that just because they gurgled the Cum of a
Prom King once and got Preggers more times than a Welfare Case that
Life somehow owes them something. They think the Rest of the world waits
to shine until they crunk their Raisin tits and droopy ass out of the
bed every day. Stupid Humans. Don't Know how many times I can say that
before it lose its potency.
I
Mean, who cares if you sucked on the knob of a Prom King? Where is he
now? He's probably jockeying a thrift store in the Wetlands. He was not a
Real King. You weren't a Real Queen either. These women wake up every
day screaming because the stupid housecat crawled inside of their
Vagina. Thats what you get for Birthing a country and giving way to a
Snapper the Size of a Rock Lobster.
This
Red Wench lived atop a shoe store on Wisconsin and I followed her back
one night because she had picked up a piece of Fungus ridden cheese that
I had hidden underneath a pile of rubble. The whole thing confused me
because I couldn't figure out what she was going to do with it.
When
I followed her back to that Shit Hole Shoe Store I could not believe
what I was seeing. She had a house full of of Rat pets. Domesticated
Fuckwits Eating the Cheese of a hard working Street Thug. Made me sick.
Still, there was nothing I could do. Too many of them. I thought for a
second that I had a good mind to burn the store down with all of them in
it. But I got a little bit of Heart. Them Rats wasn't doing me no harm.
They didn't know where that cheese came from. She could have made it in
her Crotch Factory outlet for all they knew. I still don't like spoiled
ass House Rats, but I Like Fucking Prom Queens a whole lot less since
then.
After Georgetown I started to fall apart. It wasn't my
fault. The weather turned shitty and even the bums were seeking
accomodations indoors. When things would get desperate I could always
count on sleeping in the swampy ass cheeks of one of those bums. My body
fit real good in there. The Smell wasn't so bad. I had slept in an
actual Swamp before. Sort of similar but just different. Still, it was
always warm and if I got thirsty there was always plenty of Swamp Juice
to slurp from the walls. Slurping Swampees we used to call it.
I was having trouble finding bums to sneak bunk in. So I had made a
decision to go and visit my friend Joey Nibbles in the Sewer when things
got too rough. He had extended an open standing invitation to come for a
visit and my options were running low.
Joey Nibbles was this
Rat that I knew from Chinatown. We used to raid this Restaurant when the
lights were out. Kind of made me hate the smell of rice though.
Everything smelled like rice. Except for the rice. The rice smelled like
dirty laundry. Strangest thing you ever did smell.
This one
time we hit up that stinky noodle hut and mixed it up with some Feline
Fucks. That was the night that we learned the real reason they call them
pussies. Joey had gotten a line to score some Msg. This shithole off
51st and Lexington called Wang Ding Dung.
To you stupid humans
Msg is nothing but a flavor enhancer for food.But that stuff is like
heroin to a Rat. We have been getting high off of Msg for centuries. The
shit that you get nowadays is mostly cut. The days of pure un-cut Msg
were well before my time. But even back in my old party days if you knew
the right Rats you were guarenteed at least a 70/30 ratio of cut. That
is damn impressive.
Man, I tell you.... that shit gets you
high. All it seems to do for humans is make the food taste better and
make them wanna eat more. Bunch of fucking pigs, you humans are. Bigger
Pigs than even Pigs are. Msg produces a feeling of euphoria in a Rat. It
makes us feel like we are on top of the world. Cats love it too.
I had met Joey in a brawl one night. I seen that Filthy Rat go shitzo
on a ferret in a dive alley. He took a tooth pick and impaled this
ferrets dick to the ground, before he nibbled it off and spit it in his
face. That was why they called him Joey Nibbles on account he liked to
gnaw through stuff. I guess Joey Gnaw didn't sound right, so Nibbles it
was.
The ferret was howling and bleeding all over the place
and one of his friends came up behind Joey and tried to whack him on the
head with a pebble bat. I gave him the heads up and he turned around
and jammed out both that pricks eyes in a single blow. Squished right
through and blinded him in about half of a second.
Ever since
then, me and Joey was real tight. We started hanging around that Wang
Ding Dung joint on account of all the good shit they used to toss out
every night. All kinds of stuff. Food,supplies, you name it.... they
probably had extras and just threw it away on a nightly basis.
Once Joey got a hold of some Rotting Beef tips that had been soaking in
a vat of Msg and he said he tripped for days on it. A lot of them ching
chong joints don't like to use Msg anymore. Too many humans are
allergic to it, and the Rats and Cats all became addicted to it and
started hanging around, so most of them places started using this Msg
substitute called Crystaline Mathobenadrixacolin. Crystal Math.
Crystal Math is bad news. It smells just like Msg but when you ingest
it, the additives in it that produce the flavoring similar to the Msg,
they start to sizzle flesh and you begin to burn from the inside out.
It's nasty. I seen it happen to a Rat once. He had gotten a hold of some
of it on a hot pepper. It made him spontaneously combust and chunk out
all over the place. As we were sitting there picking off pieces of
Boomtown Rat from our fur most seemed to think that it was the Hot
Pepper that did him in. But, I knew. It was that shit.
So
anyways, Joey Nibbles recognized the taste of Msg. The real shit. The
good shit. At least an 80/20 cut according to Joey. We decided to hit
this place up and make off with as much as we could carry out. Of
course, real Msg was a big deal and these Fucking cats also had the same
idea.
Me and Joey went up against this gang of cats. These
Furball Fucktards thought they were slick, hiding in a vat of Soy Sauce
until the owner, Chung King Pow Wing Dong, locked the storage room up
for the night.
We
were already inside because Nibbles and me, we had swam from the sewer
up out of the Toilet and he had Gnawed through the wall. Only Joey
Nibbles would think of some shit like that.
We were in the
storage room and very close to nabbing the Msg and these Pussy Juicers
rolled up on us. All Black faced. We thought that they was a gang or
something. But one rumble and a tumble and we started getting sloshed
with Soy Sauce.
We took these Pussies down hard. Joey Nibbles,
always the innovator of creative disposal, he shoved hot peppers into
their little kitty assholes. Man, they were hurting. Probably took a
week to get the scorch out of their insides.
This
one cat, a Siamese..... you know how you can tell a Siamese? You can
tell by looking at the tips from the head to the tail. The colors have a
very distintive pattern. Front to back....
Black,Gold,Black,Gold,Gold,Black. It can be pretty intimidating when you
see this array charging at you.
Siamese
have this reputation for being bad asses on account of they're so
temperamental and shit. It's all Pussy to me, and especially to Joey
Nibbles. He ain't afraid of no Siamese shitheads.
This Siamese
thought it was extra menacing with that soy sauce drenched all over it
..... truth is, it looked pretty stupid to me and Nibbles. The cat
charged him and he grabbed a chopstick and impaled the piece of fluff.
It looked like a Furry shish-ka-bob. Fucking Siamese. Hate 'em with a
Passion.
Me and Nibbles sent them Pussies packing and made off
with enough Msg to get us high for a year. After this little
mis-adventure, I just always remembered Joey Nibbles telling me that if I
ever needed a place to crash I was more than welcomed to hang at his
place in the South quarter of the sewer mane. I took him up on this
proposal and I ended up staying with him and his Clan for about 9
months. Those 9 months were the lowest point of my Ratly existence. Not
on account of Nibbles. He was as good as they come.
Nibbles
taught me a lot when I was living in the sewer. I learned some new
tricks. Started to think about things and see things differently. One
thing I learned was that just because a Rat lives in the sewer don't
mean that he's a Rat Bastard. Sure, many of them are lowlifes and
tainted from too much life in the bung and sleeping in the guts of the
sewer. But they're Rats. Just like me.
When hard times hit,
you better do whatever you can do to stay Filthy and Hard to the Core.
Being a sewer Rat was no picnic. But those dregs of the vermin society
got a whole lot more dignity and Rat sense than any house bitch. Sewer
Rats got Wicked Street cred and skills that will get you whatever you
need, when you need it and take you wherever you need to go on your own
time. All being a house Rat teaches you is what its like to depend on
puny humans for everything. It goes against everything a Rat should
stand for. I hated living in the sewer. It did Joey Nibbles in. Poor
Fucker.
I like being a hood Rat though. The breeze on my sac.
The pavement at my feet. Spreading Filth and eating Garbage. Sure beats
the bung of the sewer and the confines of a glass house. But, I get it.
You do what you gotta do. Living. Learning. Filth. The Rat way. It's the only way as far as I'm concerned.
*****Blog reposted from Bentherat blog page. Original post date 9/5/2010*****
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