January 4, 2009

Chick Stuff

We have a mouse. We saw the nasty little thing scurrying on the counter and through the living room.

Bastard had no fear.

He even played peek a boo with us.

I'm really not kidding, the bastard had zero fear.

If he had opposable thumbs there would have been a note next to the mousetrap with the peanut butter licked clean off of it that said, "Thanks for dinner, bitch."

So we bought some different traps and not 30 minutes after we set them, we heard the snap.

We had a mouse. And then I start feeling bad for breaking the little prick's neck. I actually felt bad. What IS that?
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