Gargoyle Snot

This place is all sticky. Urg.

I'm learning that an immigrant gargoyle's immune system needs to become accustomed to Canadian viruses. I've been dumping vitamin C capsules into his slop (as advised by a veterinarian with bite scars on his derrière. Never tell a gargoyle that he should be neutered), but it hasn't kept him from catching a cold. Now, dear Reader, you must understand what Gargoyle Flu is like.

The first stage is congestion. Nothing slimy, but his howls of sinus pain woke up senile old Madame Tousigny from downstairs. She knocked on my door and had nothing on but a double baby-carrying-backpack thing which held her two favourite cats, pupu and sissi (I can't make these things up). She was convinced that I was making a live-feline stew and would be calling the police. Luckily, her dementia allows me to change the subject, so within five seconds we were discussing how socialists are at the root of society's prostitution and sewer-management problems (the day I discovered her fascist bents was a happy one for me).

After a couple days of deafening bitching, the substance that was causing the pressure within his skull started to leak. Then gush. Now, one doesn't normally attribute a "smell" to snot (Hm. Sounds like a philosophical riddle: if the stuff that is clogging your nose smells, how would you know?), but gargoyle snot is quite a pungent fluid. I spent my entire weekend using large squeegees on the tarps covering my floors and pushing the stuff out onto my front balcony. Unfortunately, it made the snow melt and the paint underneath is peeling. We'll have to check the structural integrity before I step out in the spring.

The final step was the sneezing and coughing. Given that my pet's nose composes fully 30 % of his body weight, the stunning strength of a gargoyle sneeze seems to cause tears in fundamental Calabi-Yau shapes' p-branes and therefore in the very fabric of space-time (string theory is still a controversial segment of modern physics, but I swear I heard Ghengis Khan being given a back rub by three vestal virgins after a particularly violent expectoration).

(...which reminds me of the time I wanted to have sex with Schrödinger's cat. I just wasn't sure if it was legal in its state. Yeah, that's my idea of a joke. Sorry).

The worst part is that rope production is down 20%. I've got to increase his lashings in order to keep up with demand, but my flogger's shoulder is acting up. Ugh, I hope he gets better soon.