Saturday, November 18, 2006

Call me killer

Another day in the garage cleaning out shit. I actually managed to get dirtier this weekend than last, but another metric ton made its (unlawful) way to a local dumpster. 2 car trips, again. Felt great. I found something I've been looking for and didn't find 2 others. I fear they're gone for good. Which is a bummer but what are ya gonna do.

I ran into yet more disgusting, vile, putrid, unholy silverfish (why, God, WHY?) and discovered that little baby ones are white. Which you might think would make them less horrific but in fact it makes them more a product of Lucifer himself and I discovered that the volume of my squeals are directly related in an inverted fashion to the size of the hateful little fuckers. The smaller the bug the louder I scream. Bleh.

We also discovered a lot of stuff with chew marks. Paper, stuffed animals (grrr) boxes, old tennis shoes (again, why the fat do I keep that shit?) However, I didn't see much evidence of critters so I'm praying to the Universe and a few other deities that whatever living things that might have made their way into my garage, messing with my personal things, infringing on my life are gone, never to return. Because I might be a lover of furry creatures, but nobody fucks with me or my stuff and gets away with it.


You're Cute Now Die

A few years ago when I was living in my last house, which happened to be a tri-level awesome kick-ass pimp pad, I was minding my own business with my doggie in our large kitchen and before my eyes I did see scurrying across the dark wood floor was a little gray mouse.

"Oh, how cute." I said to myself.

Then I said "hey, wait a minute, I'm on the third floor, how the hell did little Mr. Fuzzybutt get all the way up here?" "I know what I'll do. I'll ignore it."

And that's what I did. Until Mr.Fuzzybutt showed up with his buddy Sir Shitsalot with his gang of Shitters and Harem of Reproducing Whores and now we were in trouble.

But first, I was stupid.

A couple weeks after the first sighting and after spending those weeks pretending that I didn't have a problem, I found mouse poop in the cupboard under the sink. That's when I decided I probably needed to do something about this small little inconsequential issue I thought I might have.

Not wanting to kill a living creature I opted for a humane trap. I bought a sturdy little cage that wouldn't snap any necks, placed a little peanut butter on the trigger thing and set it under the kitchen sink.

It didn't take long and I heard a little "clink". Wow, that was quick, I must be some type of mouse whisperer. How cool am I? Problem solved, done and done. I opened the cupboard to see twitching whiskers and a shiny black nose staring back at me.

"Oh, how cute." I said to myself.

Then I gently carried the trap outside and across the street where there were no houses and flung Mr. Fuzzybutt into the bushes. Go have a nice life you little sweetie. Then I put the trap away since I wouldn't need it any more.

A few days later I was again in the kitchen and before my eyes did I see but a little gray mouse scurrying across the wood floor.

"Oh. Shit." I said to myself.

I retrieved the humane trap from the garage and set it up again. 2 minutes later I heard the "clink". I went outside and once again deposited Mr. Fuzzybutt into the bushes scratching my head and wondering to myself how the hell did he get back into the house.

A few more days after that before my eyes I did see but a little brown mouse scurrying across the wooden floor through the doorway and into the dining room.


"Uh. Oh." I said to myself. That was not Mr. Fuzzybutt.

And that's when I knew I was retarded and it wasn't the same mouse I was ditching out of my house but god knows how many had set up camp in my walls.

I live-trapped mouse after mouse after mouse. Cleaned up mouse poop that got in places I still can't figure out how they managed to cram their little asses into. And finally, the trap stood empty.

For about 2 weeks.

Know what the average gestation for a mouse is? About 2 weeks.

Sitting in my kitchen, blah blah, what did my eyes see, yada yada.

"Fucking hell shit damn. Oh. My. God."

I think I trapped about 13 wobbly little babies until the trap again went silent.

For another 2 weeks.

Rinse. Repeat.

And just when I thought I was in the clear, one night I was watching TV in my bedroom, 2 full floors below the kitchen, and before my eyes I did see?



Get out the live trap, BLAH BLAH!! FUCK!

But this time the little assholes were too smart for me and the trap remained empty.

Then one night, about 1:30 in the morning I was woken by a curious noise.

"Clang clang crunch crunch clang."

I got up to try and figure out what the hell that noise was and to my utter disbelief and consternation, those little bastards had stolen a gigantic chunk of dog bone left on the floor and hauled it into the fireplace in my room and were banging it away against the metal fire wall while devouring it like the pig bitches they are. Mocking me. After shutting them up by jamming my blow dryer into the crack they were hiding in, I knew what I had to do.

You mess with my sleep and your ass is mine. Motherfuckers.

The next day I bought RAT poison and killed them all.

The End.

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