Here's the hello to all the other odd folk who enjoy reading up on perfect strangers. Thank God for us, else the internet would be a very cold, friendless place filled only with porn and political screeds. Anyway, a word of warning; if you're here to gaze deeply into my personal life I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. I'm a fairly private fellow, and am more than a little paranoid about the fact that what is put out on the 'net can never really be taken back. However, I've no problem relating funny (usually at my expense) stories when they pop up, or making some up if nothing's fallen on me in awhile. Sometimes I might fabricate a blatant lie and dress it up as the truth. In my more honest moments I might even write a story and call it fiction.
So, just because you took the time to read all of that, here is a treat. Not an hour ago I was outsmarted by a mouse.
Yes, a mouse.
I've lived in my apartment for two years now. There was a slight problem with vermin when I first arrived, but I made war upon the pests and cleansed my domain of their wretched presence and they have dared only once to try to resettle. That is, until last week, when late one night I heard the distinctive scrabbling of critters behind my walls. Now for seven days I have laid out tasty poison treats, vacuumed, cleaned up whatever clutter there was on the floor and generally made it difficult for the enemy to hide should they venture out where I can see them.
One ventured out today as I was shaving. All I saw was a quick shadow, but I gave chase and soon had a gray mouse cornered. Unfortunately, I had him cornered under my TV stand, which was too heavy to move quickly, so when I attempted to capture the little blighter by moving the stand and tromping down with an old shoebox he escaped and ran under my couch. This was unacceptable as I often sleep on said couch, so I quickly grabbed one side and swung it out away from the wall, fully intending to crunch my uninvited guest. I'd expected him to make for the kitchen, but he was wily and ran under my legs to hid beneath my big bookcase, which is far too heavy to move without taking all the books out and the space that he fled too small for me to fit any effective killing instruments. What's worse is that the case stretches about a mile, and I have nothing long enough to block the tiny genius inside.
So, now I'm fixing to go to work, knowing that he's under there, watching me, waiting for me to walk out the door so he can have the run of the place. But no matter; I will strike back. I've already called for reinforcements. The Orkin men will put the fear of God into the interlopers, and if they don't leave of their own free will than they will go, like their ancestors, to a grizzly end.
Now to work.
- Greeting from a bird (and a mouse)