*Shake* your head moments


This story takes place a few years ago, when I had a roommate. Now for those of you who have had to share a space with another human being before you are aware that interesting moments can happen.

Well, my mama did not prepare for days like this…

So, I came home after work one day. I pulled into the parking lot. It was a normal afternoon. I pulled up next to my room mate’s car. I took a look at her car. It looked like she hit a semi. The front right side of her vehicle was completely dented in, her light was dangling for dear life from a cord, and the windshield was cracked.

I thought DAMN, talk about a bad day.

Then I noticed the smear of RED on her car. The red smear continued from her car into our apartment.


I cautiously walked towards our apartment door. I found it partially open.

Warning! Caution! Danger Will Robinson! 

I immediately think someone has broken in. I continue to follow the smear of red, thru the entryway, down the hall, and towards the bathroom. Yes, I’m aware that in a horror film this is where a character generally dies. But fortunately for you my dear readers, I’m still amongst the living.

I round the corner, to see my perky room mate. She is grinning from ear to ear. She says “welcome home.” I then take in the scene in MY bathroom before me. There is a deer carcass in my bathtub. Yes, that’s right a DEAD deer is in my bathtub. My roommate is holding a razor blade. It’s dripping blood. Her hands are red. She looks like an evil axe serial killer. Needless to say, I’m concerned. I’m now thinking, who the hell am I living with?

I reply like any rational woman would. “What the hell are you doing?” She informs me, it’s not as bad as you think. I had an incident on the way home. This incident is perfect timing for her! I think why is a dead deer perfect? She tells she can use the skin of the deer for her final project. She’s a fashion student at an local art college.

Okay, I decide to go with the gore-y scene in front of me. I then ask her, why is the deer in MY tub?

She said that my tub was the closest. For those of you who have ever picked up literal dead weight of an animal before, you know how heavy it is especially a fully grown doe.

She then said that she would clean up everything and not to worry. Ha! Not worry! There’s a dead deer in my tub. What the fuck! She informs me that it’s going to take her a while. Because she using teeny razor blades to skin the deer. Yep, that’s right the teeny tiny blades that she used to shave her legs with.

Three days later…

My tub is free of dead deer and scrubbed clean too. We have a kitchen full of plastic bags of deer meat. My shower curtain liner is in the trash with the parts of the deer she could not save. The carpet from the door to the bathroom didn’t make it. The tiny razor blades that she used for the deer skinning were used to rip up our carpet. Due to the fact that it started to smell and steam cleaning couldn’t get that out.

Moral of the story: It’s people like this that make car insurance rates higher.

ยฉ southerngabunny

23 thoughts on “Oh DEER

      1. im in a family where most of my cousins, aunts, my mom, and my grandmother all worked in the medical field. i love a good crazy “you’re not gonna believe what happened to me today” story ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

  1. “I continue to follow the smear of red, thru the entryway, down the hall, and towards the bathroom. Yes, Iโ€™m aware that in a horror film this is where a character generally dies” – thanks, now I have beer all over my keyboard!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. As someone who was married to an avid deer hunter, who cleaned and processed his own deer every year, I know what an enormous task this was. Which makes the humor in it that much more funny!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Considering that I once came home to a dead cat wrapped in brown paper resting in my refrigerator among food, I can relate to your experience, somewhat. The cat was my (then) teenage son’s science project which the not-so-smart teacher assigned to small groups of students to take home – home! – and dissect. The two girls, grouped with my son by the same “smart” teacher, refused to look at the remains, let alone touch, so my son, the brave gentleman, brought it home and couldn’t find a better place for it! Needless to say, all the food that had shared fridge space with his project had to be thrown away.

        Liked by 1 person

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