Clearly, its in my blood.

I received the following email from my brother yesterday. It's but one piece of evidence that my uncanny ability for finding myself amongst all things strange and ridiculous is a family tradition.

Email quote begins here:

"Somehow a little snake got into our lunch room today at work. There were a couple guys (including me) in the room eating when a woman walked in to sit at a different table. She acts startled and says in an excited tone "There's a snake in the lunchroom!"

I walk over to the supply room, tear off a section of cardboard box, and use it as a makeshift "Snake Rake" and work the little guy towards the door. At that point, he coils up and the tip of his tail (although no rattle is audible or visible) starts shaking a mile a minute. He's lunging for me with all he's got, but that's only about four or five inches; given I'd say he wasn't over 9-11 inches from tip to tip. I get him outside and pin him down with the cardboard, and end his life with the aid of a Doc Martin.

Then a couple co-workers decide it would be cool to look up what it was; especially given it definitely wasn't a garter snake and the degree of aggression he showed. Turns out, it was an Eastern Massasauga or Swamp Rattlesnake.

It is venomous. It's also an endangered species in Illinois."

End email.

I expect a call from prison any day now.

And for the record, I woulda killed it too.