ain't no mickey

so, a couple of days ago, i showed you my lovely lamp (i made it, by the way, so don't go telling me it's ugly or else!) that was taken on my first night back home. i just couldn't stay with mom and dad anymore. the futon was getting to be uncomfortable, dad was all too depressed about his chair being taken over (that's a whole 'nother post), and well, i guess i'm just not used to living with the 'rents anymore. i mean, i moved into the dorms when i was 17 for cryin out loud. anyway, i stupidly bravely went home, opened the door to my pigsty humble abode, and was welcomed by one of the most vile smells ever. now, you must remember that: a) i have the nose of a bloodhound. i smell everything from a mile or two away and b) i've been to the slums of africa...believe me, i know stank.

so yeah i'm greated by a smell that may as well have knocked me right over. and suddenly i remembered "holy shit. i cleaned out the fucking fridge tuesday." tuesday being the day Friend had to help me get dressed. tuesday being the day i went to the emergency room. tuesday being the day i started my week long stay at the parental units' house. fuck. so, i hobbled to the kitchen, was greated by 1561635465 knats (gnats?) a couple of cups and bowls with fuzz growing in them and two heaps of trash just screaming "for the love of gawd get us out of here." I broke my back strained myself a bit, but i was able to get the bag and the box to the front porch without any trash juice spillage (thank you lord). once i got to the front porch i mumbled something along the lines of "fuck it" "that's far enough for now," walked back into the stink zone and proceeded to hose every room down with Lysol, because let's face it, Lysol kills all smells eventually, right?

WRONG!! my house was still a stinkfest with a side of lysol. fuck. i figured it must be the dirty dishes. so i killed myself washed the ones with growths (because that was all i could stand of, well, standing). i sprayed the house down with lysol again, took some more pain meds, and went to bed. oh, my bed. how i missed it. my 500 thread count sheets. my 342 pillows, my little lamp that produces a butt print on my ceiling (trust me on this one, the pic doesn't do it justice). i even missed the hum of the piece of shit air conditioner in my bedroom. so, i fell asleep. that night i woke up and desperately had to pee. i turned on the butt lamp, stumbled to the bathroom, did my thing, and came back to my bedroom. as i was walking back to my bed, something caught my eye. i keep a big plastic cup on the floor just on the other side of the butt lamp, because the a/c sometimes drips condensation. something was in the cup besides water. i vaguely remembered cleaning out my brush one day in a hurry and just throwing the hair on the nightstand. so, seeing as how it was kinda round and black, i assumed it was my clump-o-hair.

WRONG!! fast forward to this morning (two days later) and i'm still wondering why my house stinks. it's not as bad, but still not good. i said to myself "self, you should probably dump the condensation cup cause it was getting kinda full and that clump of hair might start growing things." so, i rolled out of bed, picked up the cup and saw that it wasn't a clump of hair. i went to the bathroom to get a better look with more light. it was a fucking dead mouse. insert biddy screaming with a sore throat, while simulatneously coughing and trying to not throw up. oh. my. gawd. there was a mouse floating in a cup that sits right next to my bed. which means the mouse was probably on my bed. eww eww and oh yeah ewwww! the blogger in me thought about taking a picture, but the seriously grossed out part of me said "get this thing the hell outta here!" so, what do you do with a dead mouse floating in a cup of water? you go out front (because if you go out back the dogs may trip you and then you'll have to pick up dead mouse and that's just not cool), show the neighbor the dead vermin, walk across the street (barefoot, ouch) and throw the entire cup, mouse and all into the alley.

so, now i'm all on edge cause everyone says where there's one there's a bunch more. fuck. i've NEVER had a mouse in my house (sam i am...i do not like green eggs and ham) oh, sorry. anyway, i've NEVER had a mouse in mi casa. never. a cricket here, spider there, albino gecko...but NEVER a varmit. i'm seriously grossed out. i want to take every single thing out of my house and hose it down with bleach. well, we all know that ain't gonna happen, so what do i do? tracy from work says i should go buy traps and set them all around the house for a while. umm that's cool and all, but uh, i kinda have four dogs that would find peanut butter or velveeta on a mouse trap all too tantalizing. but i guess i need to, just for peace of mind. but, what do i do if i catch one? there's no way in hell i'm picking it up! i guess i'll just have to tell Friend to be on rescue stand-by. i mean, he saved me from that baby squirrell viscious monster creature, surely he'll save me from a mouse, right?

by the way, Friend is not a nice person. he's sitting here telling me stories of him waking up with a mouse playing in his hair. ewwwwwww then he's being all sweet and saying "maybe one will run across your face tonight while you sleep" oh and let's not forget the oh so comforting "it only takes a hole about the size of a nickel for a mouse to get it...i've seen 'em do it before" fuck. just when i thought the cure would simply be closing of Chablis' dog door. fuck. thanks Friend, seriously. you're the greatest.

blech...

that's it, i'm staying at Friend's tonight. ain't no way i'm going home to mouseville without some traps set first.