Little Bitches.

A lot has happened in the past few weeks since A Rat Tale. We stuffed steel wool in the holes we could find and strategically positioned our glue traps. For a few days there was silence. We didn't wake up to any strange noises in the middle of the night and didn't have to clean up any spilled garbage. Life was good. Well, that part of our lives was good, the rest was/is pure misery. But of course that came to an abrupt end one evening when we could hear one of the glue traps walking around in the kitchen at 4am. Josh and I shared text messages and phone calls trying to figure out what to do. Why phone calls? Because we have these things called Vaginas which inhibits us from coming face to face with rodents who are nowhere near as big as us and probably can't really do any harm. (If you're still confused by this strange syndrome we suffer from See: Pussy.) So after we decided that Josh would poke his head out of his room to make sure whatever was stuck in the glue trap wasn't right outside my door, we came out to find this...

This mouse was unbelievable. He was completely stuck in the glue trap but somehow managed to rock his way all the way under the dishwasher. Maybe he just pretended he was a huge Luge fan. LOOK! It has a tail! So we know it's a brand new piece of shit.

Mice (and white people) cannot get enough of that Old El Paso Taco Mix.

Actually, that little bitch just wanted some Wonder Bread. I didn't even open that loaf yet!

So after he managed to get all the way under the dishwasher Josh and I Vagina'd it up a bit more and discussed our options. We decided on filling up a bucket of water, sliding the glue trap out from under the dishwasher and dropping the entire thing in the bucket. Put the little fella out of his misery. He was screaming his fucking lungs out and I thought it would be a nice peaceful death. Actually why do people say drowning is a peaceful way to die? How do they know? Burn them people.

So that's exactly what we did. I covered the bucket with a box to make sure there was no chance the little son of a bitch would escape. We heard him moving around in the bucket for a few minutes and then it went silent. We probably should have taken a picture of this but decided we didn't want to be sick and twisted idiots and thought it would be best to just dispose of the thing and get back to sleep. But of course when we moved the box from the lid of the bucket...the mouse was standing on top of the glue trap, using it as a FUCKING RAFT! Sonofabitch.

So what we ended up doing was sliding the whole bucket out the front door. I kicked it over and the mouse was free. I saved it's life. Could you imagine what was going through that head of his? One moment he was kicking it making Old El Paso tacos with Wonder Bread. The next moment his whole body is trapped in glue and he's trying desperately to stay alive. The next moment he thinks he's going to drown. And after that he's straight lounging on the glue trap as if it were a raft and it was a goddamn Mickey Mouse resort. I'm sure that little bitch is telling all of his little buddies, "Live everyday like it's your last." Or some other bullshit cliche that I'm sure are even annoying to mice. We gave that asshole Street Cred.

Oh yea. You better believe I still had some toast. I love toast.

It was quiet again for a few nights. That ended quickly when I woke to what sounded like a homeless person going through our garbage. I strapped on my shoes and got my water bottle (the one that I use as a bat) and opened the door to find this...

A bagel I had thrown out that day. This motherfucker likes cream cheese I'll tell ya that.

OK. Take a close look at where our garbage can is (upper right corner, stacked on a smaller garbage can). I'm pretty sure it wasn't our little surfer friend from the other night because he wasn't very big and honesly, I don't think his little bitch ass could carry half of a bagel out of the garbage can all the way to the dishwasher. Not only that, this new motherfucker (I bet it was the Tail-less shithead) used our glue trap as a goddamn plate! What a slap in the face. I know Josh and I are pretty pathetic. (Don't believe me? Ask us about our female encounters. It will only take a second. Really.) But even we don't deserve to be humiliated by a goddamn rodent.

But you know what. We got a little bit of revenge...

The next night we gave that little bitch a haircut.

I think I just threw up a little bit. Ugh.

By the way. "See: Pussy." Great name for an art exhibition. Or a band. But not a G-rod bar. "VitaMens" = good name for a G-rod bar.