Squeakity Squeakity

What's its gonna take for me to get some sort of peace and quiet in my own home. I'm not talking about children, dogs or the damn fish tank, ever blooming phone ringing off the hook, damn door or the IM chiming ever few seconds. I'm talking about this little life form that has taken my life for a turn for the worse. I can't think, sleep, I can't go two feet without a flippin' mouse skittering behind me.

Now I've made fun of our exploits to this person and that person but what it comes down to is the mere fact I feel these little varmints are planning my demise as we speak. I lay in my bed at night, even though the music might be blaring or the headphones on, but I can hear them around my person. Maybe it's my imagination but Daaaayum if it's not real to me. The skittering and scattering of thousands of little feet zoom across the ceiling joists only but a few feet above my head come out to be literally deafening. Makes me just want to clasp my hands to my ears and scream my guts out but to be perfectly honest with you, they would prolly enjoy my breakdown even more. Why feed the masses.

Once again, using sarcasm and hilarity, I find myself dealing with them but I seriously can't do it much longer. I refuse to use poison but I've done all the rest, old fashioned traps, glue boards, sonic devices and live traps. I've called the Orcan man and they said "Yes Ma'am we understand, we'll come out and assess the infestation and damage and give you an estimate."

I'm afraid but at this point in time I'd cut off my ex husband's third leg (yes there satisfaction in the thought of that) and sell it to pay for whatever I need to take care of it. I've seemingly become so tired of it that I feel as if I'm going insane. I break down, cry, throw things and become a sadistic monster when I do catch one.

By the way, I saw the Orcan man's truck. Thought to myself "YES! Paybacks are hell, Speedy and you shall soon get yours..!" and cheered. But I haven't seen the man since, nor have I received an estimate in the mail, call or anything. Knowing my luck, the leader of the group bribed the man or brainwashed him into never coming back. So where does that leave me? Shit out of luck that's for damn sure.

I can clean, no dirty dishes, trash collected and taken out, food in plastic containers 3 ft off the floor but they still find away to eat thru the most impervious and sealed dish. I can make dinner and turn around to put plates on the table and low and behold they appear out of nowhere to enjoy the meal before us humans can. Hate isn't a new word in my vocabulary but until lately it was a phrase I refused to use. Well I've changed my mind. They are the demon seed. The spit in my soup. The stain on my the inside of the toilet. The shit on the bottom of my shoe. I hate them. I want them gone. GONE!!!

I'm constantly told to use this method or that but I've experienced with up most certainty that they fail almost all the time. Rarely do I catch one, but I take pleasure when I do. I tally. I'm extremely giddy. Ecstatic. Even my kids become thrilled and plan for the burial and when I say burial I mean taking the dead, almost dead, or struggling beast and making it sure that it suffered a horrible entry into the oblivion. No heaven is worthy. Purgatory or Hell, yeah that's the ticket.

To get you to understand my situation I can only give you insight into the twisted existence I've lived for a few years. Take for instance the other day when I was sound asleep in my bed when awoke from my slumber with the tiny little squacks from speedy himself as he desperately tried to free himself from the glue trap cleverly placed on the headboard of my bed. And yes, I have had to resign myself into putting them everywhere. If I hadn't they would have the entire run of the house. Oh wait, they do….

As the squacks got louder I realized the creature wanted free of his trappings and was desperately trying everything it could even eating the sides off to literally get rid of the board. To my horror, he did the unthinkable. After his two front legs became free, he edged himself to front of the headboard and leapt off the damn thing. By this time, I realized my nemesis possessed skills beyond those of normal vermin as he screeched and became airborne and firmly planted himself and the damn glue board on the back of my head.

Picture this, if you will….

Yours truly, bolting out of bed, butt ass naked, trying my damnedest to rip this fricken thing off my head. My hair became matted in the glue and the effin mouse clawed and scratched as I screamed, jumping around the room in my attempt to become free. And when I say scream I mean at the top of my lungs, blood curdling shrill. Try as I might, the only thing I could do was to actually cut my hair. Now even though I was sobbing for the fact I had to slice part of my long locks, I relished in the thought that I had caught the mouse.

Suffering was the only thing on my mind at that point. He was going to pay for the sins of his father and grandfather and so on. Taking the glue trap I walked towards the front door, continually opening and closing the trap so to pull almost every bit of hair off his disgusting flesh. Sadistic? He deserved it.

As horrible as that was, It wasn't the worst. The day I opened the fridge door and there sat Speedy in all his glory. And as I examined the contents of the shelves, everything I just bought the day before was now picked thru and contaminated. Feces and what not were scattered about in evidence of his betrayal. And he stood there, staring….

To be perfectly honest with you I was in shock. I stood there myself. Speechless. After a short time this creature leapt from the top rack and landed on my leg. I started screaming, my son followed suit, running about like mad. Did I catch him? Hell no!

I can't even take a psychology test without the thought of this disgusting vermin.

You're walking in a forest and you encounter a creature. What was it?
~A mouse
(your answer is indicative to the size of your problems in real life)


How do you deal with this animal?
~We stop dead in our tracks, stare at each other. Turn around and take 20 steps backwards. Facing once again I place my hand just above my weapon holstered just to my side. And I ask…."You ready to die, partner?" and speedy says "Squeekity Squeekity". Before he could utter the last word, I fired my shot………..
(Your answer is indicative to how you deal with your problems)


O. K. so I'm a tad dramatic but damn…….!

Take for instance yesterday. My last straw. I'm about to set fire to my house. I walked into my kitchen, freshly smelling of pine and bleach and there he was. On the counter, not moving. Was he dead? No that was for sure, he followed me left to right as I got closer. Then he jumped forward a tad and sent me bouncing back to the counter behind me. But I wasn't moving. He was gonna die.

I slowly reached behind my back and fumbled in the drawer without taking my eye off him. Grabbing something I swung it around to defend myself.

FUCK! (a spoon) Over the shoulder it went and began to dig further in the drawer.

Speedy sat there paralyzed.

Grabbing another cold and dangerous something... A knife, that's all I wanted. Flipped it out about me, Damnit! (spatula) Sure I'll batter it to death. Over the shoulder it went. Now by this time, my dogs were ducking and hiding under the kitchen table. Finally I grabbed a large pancake turner and wielded it about my person. Crouching forward, literally the hair was up on the back of my neck. I was ready. He was going down.

To the left I moved trying to get a better position. He went left. I went right , he went right. I came closer, he didn't move…..One swipe, I hit, sending the devil himself crashing to the wall and slamming onto the floor, twitching. I slowly walked and poked it to make sure it was dead. It wasn't AARRGGH! So I slammed the turner a few more times screaming DIE DIE DIE!! Stood up and caught by breath. I felt complete……

The audacity of this nasty creature to challenge me was beyond my comprehension. I just want it to end. I want to rest without the idea that this horrid vermin squirming in my covers, making nests in my panty drawer or walking over my children's belongings. My actions may be extreme (and mind you I spared you the worst) but well warranted.

I just want relax, leave the tater chip bag out or forget to do the dishes on purpose. I don't want to have to worry about all this bullsheet day in and day out or be serenaded nightly by the chewing of my belongings. Speedy will die. Speedy will cease to exist. I will be able to go on.

For I am the dominant species. My spatula is ready….