The other day I was up late and saw a mouse duck out from under the fridge. That's a mouse running fast, not some sort of freaky mutant rodent with a beak.
Now don't get me wrong, I do appreciate mice, and what they've done for us. I used to love watching Danger mouse, and Mickey Mouse, and Splinter from the Ninja turtles, and that Emma girl from big brother. And I love eating chocolate mouse (my mum spells it like that ok.) Hey, I'm even using one with my computer right now.
But they have to die. There is no other option.
We used to get them all over the place at work, and the worst thing is the mouse poo they leave everywhere.
On the kitchen bench, in mugs, everywhere! And they are pretty fearless too... even the mug with a picture of a scary looking cat on it got attacked.
Mouse poo isn't like normal poo either, it's tiny and odourless, and hard to see, you have to be really careful if you leave food lying around. And whilst I'm sure it's nutritious, and probably considered a delicacy in India, I also know it fails all of Australia's food safety standards, and therefore I'm not eating it. Although so does Pizza Hut pizza which I had the other night, so maybe I'm a hypocrite.
When we had them, me being the token staff room hanging out person, and one of only a few males at work, I was unofficially given the role of Mouse Killer. Unfortunately I didn't get to wear a cool hat or cape or lycra, but I did get to go around holding the dead bodies and saying cool catchphrases like "Say Cheese scumbag!"
As like other highly skilled military work, surveillance is an important part of the job. You have to think like the mouse, where would it hide, what would it do, what would it eat. Basically live and breathe its life. Be the mouse.
Although my boss thought I took it too far when he saw me rolling around in the dumpster and squealing at lunchtime.
Most of my survellience is done from the couch in the staff room. I watch a lot of cooking shows, and obviously all the talk about food stirs them up, because I often see them darting across the room from behind the bin to the broom closet, and vice versa. They treat the place like they are on holidays. The other day a couple were frolicking behind the fridge (or as us locals like to call it, Cold White Mountain.) Sometimes they float around the sink on minature inflatable crocodiles and sipping cocktails trying to catch a few rays through the window.
It's getting beyond a (bad) joke.
So we got some mousetraps. They come in a couple of different types these days. You can get these plastic ones that are quite simple, and quite safe too. You sort of click the back and it's loaded. Unfortunately they don't have much grunt. I can tell you, it's not fun at 9am trying to drown a mouse that's squealing and bleeding and thrashing around because the mousetrap only partially severed it's neck. If he wasn't wearing the tiny black gimp outfit and saying "that hurts good" in mouse-language, I'd probably feel sorry for the little sucker.
The other type of mousetrap you can get is the conventional sort. It has a little lever attached to a big fuck-off spring. THESE ARE THE SCARIEST FUCKING THINGS IN THE WORLD! Seriously. One false move and finger = gone! I have a very precise method of loading it, which involves pressing it down, pushing it into position with a broomstick and running the fuck away. Yep, I'm a macho man.
Although I shouldn't complain. They are a lot less complicated than the original mouse trap we had years ago. You had to get 3 people and a board and roll dice and set up funnels and ladders and stuff and roll marbles down a track until a little cage comes down. That was a pain in the arse! (Only people who grew up in the 80s will get that reference)
I'd hate it when I would set up traps but the cheeky buggers somehow got the food off without setting them off! Told you they were fearless.. I'm petrified about losing a finger and they'll happily risk their head to lick off jam with their tiny little furry tongues!
If I caught one I'd leave the body there as an example to the rest of them. Well that was my excuse for not wanting to touch the germy thing.
But even when you catch a few, they'll be back. Usually they come for a while, you manage to get rid of them, you think they're not coming back then just when you least expect it, much to your digust they return a few weeks later. Pretty similar to John Farnham.
Besides mice, the other thing I can't stand are spiders. They always seem to appear when you're at your most vunerable, like on the toilet, in the shower, or playing nude twister with exchange students.
Maybe deep down they're just perverts, masturbating with their 8 arms whilst you bathe yourself. We seem to get a lot of Daddy Long Legs in the shower. I don't know how they end up there, but I do know one thing, you never hear of Mummy Long Legs do you?
Maybe Daddy Long Legs are the queers of the insect world. I can imagine all their kids getting paid out at school by the bullants and wasps, for having two daddies and living in a pink web.
Oh, and once I saw a cockroach crawling on the outside of the showerscreen as I was taking a shower. Seriously, am I living in a third world country!? I can see it now, 60 minutes will burst down my door and report on the unhygenic and inhumane ways that my parents are raising me. I mean yesterday I didn't even get breakfast in bed!
And as a final thought : Isn't it strange how some expressions can be compliments, but if taken literally they don't have the same effect?
Like, how come when I call a girl "spunk-rat" she gets a bit flattered and embarrassed...but when I call a girl "cum-rodent" I get a slap on the face?