--Still no evidence of the mouse Toney thinks she saw on Saturday
night.We've seen nothing,
heard nothing, found no leavings,
and Andy is acting normally.I
prefer to believe it was just a false alarm, that's the scenario that
works best for me.
But I don’t think I believe it.Every
time I enter the family room or the bunker now, especially at night
(for some reason), I brace myself for a spaniel-sized rat to come
falling from the ceiling – then, in one smooth continuous motion,
attach to my face.
Yeah,
Toney said it was a really small field mouse, but it sure as shit
isn't in my "visions."
I think we should probably call a pest control outfit, especially
since the place will be sitting empty for a week.But I know they'll find something, because it's in their best
interest to do so.And I a)
don't want to know about it, and b) don't want to pay for it.
But,
I guess, it's better than coming home from Englandand finding a miniature version
of Burning Man taking place in our kitchen.Right?
UPDATE: a professional mouse-killer will be here at four o’clock, to “have a look around.”Why am I envisioning Billy Bob Thornton, and a big hole in the
bottom of our checking account?
--And speaking of things falling from the ceiling…I think I've told this story before, but it's a good one so I'm
going to tell it again.
I
worked with a woman in Atlantayears ago, named Annette.One day she came in and told us she'd been sitting on the
toilet the previous evening, having a leisurely pee, when a cockroach
unknowingly fell from the vent above her head.It landed, she said, in her underwear, which was bunched at her
feet.
When
the task was completed, she stood and pulled everything up.And within seconds she felt something moving around on her
"cooter."She stuck
her hand down the front of her pants, located the source of the
problem, removed it, and promptly let-loose a scream like something
out of a Hitchcock movie.
Yep, that's what she said, cooter.She's
probably a blogger by now, for many reasons…
Do
you have any urination mishap stories to tell?I can think of several instances of predatory peeing practices;
you know, folks whizzing on things as an act of mischief or revenge?But I can't really come up with any additional mishap tales.I was never around too many electric fences in my day…
What
about you?Do you know someone
who experienced a bout of piss shivers so powerful they blacked out
and fell in a bathtub?Or
perhaps a woman who inadvertently sat on a toilet with the seat up,
and went all the way to the water?Or
maybe a guy who lost his balance and striped two walls, a ceiling, and
a floor, then started back around again?
Use the comments link if you've got anything on this one.And heck, while we’re at it, if you have an especially good
predatory peeing story, let’s hear that one as well.Or if you want to just tell us about the most exotic location
you’ve ever taken a leak...
Let’s just make this Piss Wednesday!
--We picked up our British money yesterday, and I have one
question: why are the bills different sizes?So blind people can tell the difference between a five and a
twenty and a ten?I don't think
I care for it.Coins OK, but
not paper money.I'm going to
see if I can get that changed before we leave...Is the Queen’s cell number listed at Switchboard dotcom?
Here’s our start-up stash.It’s
supposedly ₤480, but I haven’t counted it.According to the guide books there are an inordinate number of
“cash only” pubs and restaurants in London, so I’d feel better arriving
with a little money in my pocket.
You know, so there won’t be even the tiniest of delays in securing
our first pints of real
ale.
--Last summer we bought a new collar for Andy (Snoop Manny Mann),
which was supposed to make him walk better.When we take that insane hound for what should be a nice casual
stroll around the neighborhood, he pulls and lunges and yanks human
shoulders from their sockets…He's
terrible, and several people suggested we try one of those hilarious
"gentle
leaders."So
we gave it a shot.
Yeah, and when Toney put the thing on him, with the strap running
across his snout, he went wild.He
started yelping, and springing five feet in the air, and crashing
through the house like his ass was on fire.I was certain he was about to go sailing straight through a
storm window.
Within
seconds, needless to say, the collar was off and completely wrecked,
and our dog was under the dining room table shaking like a paint
mixer.Another experiment gone
horribly wrong.
So when my parents requested we put Andy in a harness for his upcoming
stay with them, I silently groaned.Even
the smallest of change sends that dog spiraling, and I didn't want to
deal with the drama.
But he didn't care.We put it
on him, and he seemed alarmed at first, but when it was finally in
place he didn't seem to give it another thought.It's as if he believes he was born to sport a harness.
Black Lips Houlihan works in mysterious ways.
--My new camera
finally arrived today.Free shipping at Amazon means “Yeah, we’ll get it out to
you when we have the time, ya cheap fuck.”But it’s here, and incredibly cold.I think I’m going to let it sit around for a day or so,
before I start monkeying with it; it feels like it’s been
refrigerated.Can’t be good,
can it?
--Finally, Brad sent this to
me, and it makes my brain melt-down a little.It’s the Velvet Underground’s John Cale appearing on a 1963
episode of the game show I’ve
Got a Secret.Check it
out.
