Catching Up…

… sorry for being MIA for awhile.

We switched cable/internet carriers and there was this whole snafu about the wireless router and THEIR customer service telling me it was my laptop and MY customer service ( meaning Chief ) telling them it was THEIR router.. it went on and on and on and after three or four phone calls.. a half dozen techs and one very nasty letter to the CEO of the cable company, I’m back online again.

NOTE: If you ever need to send a very nasty email to a CEO, the put “OUTSTANDING SERVICE” in the subject line and then begin the body of the email with “… so wish I could say that BUT” .. works every time!!

So what you’ve missed in the meantime is:

THE USUAL SAME OLD SHIT

Along with:

• Spaz did get punched in the face by a classmate.
• Bubba may be popping pills.
• A warrent was issued for (No Longer .. but Maybe) Weed’s arrest for missing a court date.
• A warrent for MY arrest for an unpaid parking ticket
• Non-payment of Child Support Drama.
• A visit from one of the crack whore’s johns benefactors.

All of which I’ll post about individually to spare you AND me a long.. drawn out post!! LOL!!

Plus, there’s a few other things I want to write about.. namely, America’s Got Talent and DADT.

But right now, I have to pick up the dead mouse that’s underneath the dining room table.

Yep.. it’s that time again!!

Lucky.. lucky me!!!

Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy’s Culinary Habits

… Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!

Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy

You remember Ernie, right?

Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy???

Come on.. you know you do!

How could you not?

JUST LOOOOOOK AT THAT FACE!!!

Bleck!

Okay.. so last night I couldn’t sleep. Not at all. So about 1am, Bravo was showing Tabatha’s Salon Take Over and I’m all about the platinum haired, English bitch of all bitches going into hair salons and giving them a piece of her English bitch of all bitches mind.

Problem is.. if it isn’t on the History Channel or Syfy or has ANYTHING to do with aliens, Nostradameous or the end of the world.. Chief hate it and makes watching it so freakin’ miserable because he’ll make fun of everything while the shows on.

It’s one of things that you either conform around or break up about.

I’m not going to be the girl who breaks up a relationship over Tabatha’s Take Over Salon so I figured I would just go into the living room to watch it.

Because.. YOU KNOW!!!!.. no matter how hard he’s snoring he’s going to wake up the minute I put something he doesn’t like on television.

So I go out into the living.. get all settled in with my blanket and coffee and ashtray and start watching.

About 10 minutes go by and Ernie the Terrorist Puppy jumps on the “L” part of the sectional sofa and drops something from his mouth that falls right between the pillows.

Then he starts picking at it.

I look a little closer and OH MY FUCKING GOD it’s a mouse.

Jesus God in Heaven there’s a dead mouse stuck between the pillows ON MY COUCH and the damn dog is picking at it!!!

Now… as disgusted as I was, there is NO WAY in God’s green earth that I’m going to pick it up and dispose of it. No amount of paper towels is NOT going to let me feel it.

So I go into the bedroom and gently wake Chief up:

ME: Hon?………. Hon?……… Hey Babe?…………… Chief?…………… Hey Sweetheart?………….. Cheeeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeffffff?? ……… Honey? …… Hey, hon?????…… OMG WOULD YOU JUST WAKE THE FUCK UP??????

CHIEF: huh? wha? huh?

ME: Hey.. I’m sorry to wake you up but can you do me a favor?

CHIEF: huh?

ME: Yea. .um.. there’s a dead mouse on the couch. Could you get rid of it for me?

CHIEF: what?

ME: There. Is. A. Dead. Mouse. ON. Our. Couch. Can. YOU. Get. Rid. Of. It?

CHIEF: ok. ok. I’ll get it.

ME: omg, thank you! I’m so sorry to wake you up.

CHIEF: ‘so kay

So I move away from the bed and then he starts to get up and then he rolls over and goes right back to sleep.

Are you FUCKING kidding me?

I go out into the dining room getting really, really PISSED OFF that he didn’t just jump out of bed and get rid of the mouse RIGHT THE HELL AWAY like I would have it he woke me up to pick up a dead mouse of the couch.

NOTE: And before y’all poo-poo that, let me tell you that he HAS woken me up in the middle of the night to kill a spider. So his spider is my mouse, okay?

So half my brain is really pissed and the other half of my brain is trying to figure out a way to be brave enough to do it my self and the other half of my brain is saying “… just go wake up Spaz. He’ll do it.”

Wait…

Half.. Half.. Half… Oh! Sorry. Not “half” of my brain… I meant the VOICES in my brain!! LOL

I was just about to get Spaz when Chief stirred and Mummy-walked out into the living room.. all wearing nothing but jersey knit shorts.

So he asks me where it’s at and I point to it and he tells me to get some toilet paper. Which was so unbelievable handy that when I handed it to him, he looked at me like I had some kind of HERO type powers of light and speed.

He turns on the living room light and goes over to the couch and says:

CHIEF: That’s not a mouse

ME: Of course it is

CHIEF: No. It isn’t.

ME: Then what the hell is it?

CHIEF: It’s dog shit.

ME: THERE’S DOG SHIT ON MY FUCKING COUCH?????????

CHIEF: Yep. Dog shit.

There are things worse then a dead mouse on my couch.. and dog shit would be one of them.

I start ranting and raving about where he could have POSSIBLY gotten dog shit because I had cleaned and scrubbed the basement and front porch earlier.. they can’t get upstairs anymore and there was nothing laying around anywhere else.

CHIEF: You may not want to hear this….

ME: It gets worse?

CHIEF: Um. yeah. Well.. the GOOD news is that you won’t have to worry about staining or smelling..

ME: …. and this would be beeeccccaaaauuuussseeeee?????

CHIEF: It’s.. um… stale?

ME: STALE?

CHIEF: Yea.. as in old.

ME: As in….?????

CHIEF: As in Ernie is a hoarder. He hoards poop. Obviously he has a stash of it somewhere in case he wants a midnight snack or something because this right here? Yea.. not fresh at all.

ME: OMG.. my dog hoards poop.

CHIEF: Call “INTERVENTION”. He needs rehab and we can’t afford it. The show will pay for it!

ME: Asshole

Why You Can’t Walk Barefoot In My House

Okay…

So we have to back up a little here…

The other day I came home from the shop and went into my bedroom to change my clothes.

For some unknown reason that I can only attribute to the fact that God takes care of babies and fools :: HINT: I’m not a baby :: I look down.

And there it is.

ME: Spaz?Spaz??SPAZ!!!!!!!!
SPAZ: Are you calling me?
ME: UM.. yea.. can you come here please?
SPAZ: What?
ME: (pointing to the floor) Can you get rid of THAT please?

NOTE: THAT being a mouse

SPAZ: Oh. Ok. I’ll get a tissue
ME: Ok.
SPAZ: What do you want me to do with it?

CONFESSION: I couldn’t watch

ME: I don’t know.. throw it outside?
SPAZ: I’m going to have to drown it
ME: WHAT??
SPAZ: (so matter-of-fact that I would be scared if it wasn’t for the mouse) Leese, it’s still alive.. you can’t make it suffer
ME: WHAT??? No, it isn’t
SPAZ: Uh-huh! Look at it.

Against better judgment, I did look. And he was right. OMG was he right!

ME: Well… well… I DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT IT.. just do what you got to do
SPAZ: (all proud of himself for being the man of the house at that moment) Ok. I’ll just drown it in the bucket like dad did..
ME: WHHHAAATT????
SPAZ: Hm. Guess I shouldn’t have told you that, huh?

So he did what he did :: and probably called the critter BUBBA while he was doing what he had to do :: and I promptly had a self induced black out so I wouldn’t remember it.

The following night.. at about 2am.. I had to go to the bathroom. I was in one of those not-even-awake stupors so instead of my usual jump up and down REALLY hard while turning on all the lights routine, I just made my way down the 4ft of hallway to my bathroom.

And stepped on something.

Squishy.

I squealed like I never heard another human being squeal before ending with CHIEF!CHIEF!OMG!GETUP!OMG!HELP!HELP!

Chief come running out of the bedroom .. well.. that’s an exaggeration because like I said, it’s only about four feet from my bedroom door to the bathroom and I was only halfway there.. and finds me leaning up against the wall with my foot up almost sobbing OMG!OMG!OMG!

He had the good sense not to chastise me on the whole “.. taking the Lord’s name in vain” thing.

“Good God, woman, what are you screaming about?”

Actually, that’s not what he said but I KNOW he was thinking it!!

OMG! I stepped on a mouse.. I can feel it between my toes! Get it off! Get it off! GET. IT. OFF!

All of a sudden he starts getting hysterical and I tell him that he has every right to laugh AFTER he gets the mouse off of me.

Through the gasps of air he’s trying to breath.. he points to my foot and tells me that it isn’t a mouse.

OF COURSE, IT’S A MOUSE YOU DUMBASS! NOW GET IT OFF!

He swears that it isn’t but reaches out to my foot and takes off the offensive mass.

I don’t know what it is, he tells me. Look at it.

OH.

HELL.

NO!

There is no way in hell that I was going to fall for one of his “Let’s Make Leese Squirm” bits at 2am.

I tell him that he tells me that, honestly, it isn’t a mouse.. he doesn’t know what it is and it’s blue.

Blue?

BLUE?

I slowly open my eyes to look and it’s part of a stress ball that Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy had ripped apart like.. three weeks ago.

Where it came from and how it got to where it was is still a mystery but BIG SIGH OF RELIEF.. it wasn’t what I thought it was so I could die happy.

Apparently, the whole Get-A-Kitty plan is working out. Not for the mice.

So last night, we’re in bed watching Dexter :: great show.. you have to watch! :: and I reach over to grab my cup of coffee on the window sill and again.. for some unknown reason that I can only attribute to God looking out for the fool that I am, I look down and see a dead mouse next to my bed.

ME: Um, Yo.. Chief?
HIM: Hmm?
ME: There’s a dead mouse next to the bed, can you get it?

To his credit, he didn’t wait until Dexter was over.. but got right up and took care of the issue.

So what’s this all got to do with the title of this post?

Heh.. well.. if you haven’t figured it out yet then you may need to suck up some of that herbal stuff that makes your brain work.

This afternoon I came home from the shop and was getting the laundry together. Next to my side of the bed, there is a little hamper type thingy that I use for my own socks and underwear. Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy was apparently playing the stuffed animal that has no stuffing left next to the bed.

I step on in while I was leaning over to get my little hamper type thingy .. barefooted.. and I stepped on something cold. And wet.

Not really knowing WHAT it was but knowing that it wasn’t GOOD.. I did the whole “EWWWWW!!!” thing and shook my foot.. releasing what was stuck to it.. which was a cold.. wet.. dead.. mouse.

A cold.. wet.. dead.. mouse that flew into the wall and bounced back onto the floor.

The scream was real.

Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy.. deciding that he was going to get into a WHOLE lot of trouble for leaving a cold, wet, dead mouse next to my bed for me to step on… figured his best course of action was to get rid of the evidence. So he grabbed it and dived under the bed with it.

Where it still remains.

I called Chief up and told him what happened and the silence told  me everything I needed to know about his man.

He REALLY wanted to laugh his ass off but knew that that was NOT the appropriate thing to do so instead went into an analysis of it’s :: and others :: demise… that being that the kitten is getting the mice and Ernie, the self absorbed, narcissistic, self fuck that he is.. is taking them from her.

My psyche is scarred beyond repair, I think.

So I went ahead and dug my Burberry plaid rain boots out of the closet and will be wearing them through the house from now on.

Cause, yknow.. they’re rubber so I can just hose them off!!

Mouse-Less… Or So I Thought

Last night.. when I was still giving Chief the cold shoulder.. I was in the bedroom watching :: what the hell was I watching? :: something when I heard Chief and Spaz in the kitchen and something BIG move.

He comes into the bedroom and tells me that while he was on the desktop computer, he saw a mouse stick it’s head out from under the fridge so he pulled it out and it dived through the 1″ hole he had drilled for the ice cube maker’s water line.

Actually.. he said.. there were two. So he put a sticky trap under the fridge and moved it back.

I HATE STICKY TRAPS.

I may not want mice in my house but I have heard horror stories of what happens to mice on sticky traps and really, I don’t want the things to suffer. I just want them to live a nice, quiet, happy life somewhere else.

Preferably the annoying neighbors next door.

He tells me at the VERY FIRST SIGN that the sticky trap was inhabited, to come get him where ever he was at and he’d take care of the situation. Shop.. Bathroom.. Shower.. anywhere.

He’s trying to get back on my good side.

Ok.

So this afternoon, I get home from working my shift at the shop.. stop at WalMart for another hamper and then to the super market to pick up pork chops and egg noodles for dinner.

NOTE: The chicken was fantastic, btw.

When I come into the house, Spaz is right up on me telling me that we don’t have a mouse issue anymore.

ME: Um.. why’s that?
SPAZ: Because Ernie caught one.
ME: (gulp) WHAT?
SPAZ: Yea. I saw it on the floor in the hallway and thought it was poop but when I picked it up it had a tail. It was wet and it’s head was a little flat.

Ordinarily, I become HIGHLY upset at the thought of Spaz growing up to be a serial killer but right then and there I almost fell on my knees in praise of the good Lord above that this kid isn’t afraid of picking up a dead mouse.

NOTE: Um.. I’m just going to pretend that I DIDN’T give thought that he did anything else to the mouse between picking it up and putting it in the trash can.

So I mention to him that his dad told me he saw TWO mice last night.

SPAZ: No details! No details! I’m not giving you any details! It’s just gone. That’s all I’m saying about it.

I have to tell you that I was relieved. Almost a little giddy. So I call Chief up and tell him about the mouse and that I couldn’t believe that ERNIE caught it. Like, was this little dog SO outdone that there’s another “baby” in the house that he’s going to hunt mice too?

Chief starts laughing and says something about how Ernie likes to chase things and that he was probably just trying to play with it and accidentally killed it… like the guy from Steinbeck’s “Of Mice and Men”.

ME: Oh, btw. Spaz told me about last night and the other mice
CHIEF: See! See! I TOLD him not to say anything! What was I suppose to do, hun? Just put it in the trash aliv
ME: Um.. Uh.. Spaz only told me that there was another one and that he wasn’t going to give me any details.
CHIEF: Crap. I just busted myself.

But I don’t care.. because, you see, I’m giddy because my problem was solved. The two mice that I had in my house are gone. I don’t have to worry about turning on every single light in the house and stomping a few hundred times to scare them before walking anywhere in the house… I don’t have to worry about one running around in the bathroom while I’m using the facilities.. and I certainly don’t have to worry about peeing in a Dunkin’ Donuts cup in the middle of the night because I’m too afraid to risk running into on in my pajamas.

All is right in my world.

Until.

Until.

UNTIL…

I come into my bedroom, sit on my bed and fire up the laptop.

Bella is laying down on the floor on the door side of the bed and Ernie takes refuge under the bed on the window side of the bed near the radiator.

I hear him tearing something apart.. Ernie is ALWAYS tearing something apart.. so I tell him to knock it off. Whenever Ernie is reprimanded, he goes into “grovel” mode.. so he jumps up on my bed with his head down and belly crawls so close next to me that he’s almost under my t-shirt.

And then I hear it.

And so does Ernie.

The distinctive tearing of something somewhere under the radiator.

His ears perk up and he dives from the bed and tries to force his nose between the wall and the radiator.

I don’t want to look. I’m ready to put a ice pick through my inner ears.

There’s another mouse.

IN MY BEDROOM.

A very active mouse from the sound of it.

Ernie’s presence means that the damn thing has quieted down and for all I know, made it’s way around the room and out the bedroom door.

But I will tell you this.

I am NOT getting off my bed until Chief comes home… in about 3 hours..

Oh.. and Ernie can forget about his damn kisses!!

Pretty Is As Pretty Does..

So Pretty the Kitten :: no matter how much Chief calls her Katu, her name is still Pretty :: is adjusting quite well.

Her normal routine is hide sleep during the day and then play to her hearts content at night.

Which, you know, considering that I have a mouse TWO mice, is just fine by me!

She’s eating well.. pooping like there’s no tomorrow in her brand spanking new litter box :: thank Jen512 :: and until she tells you she wants to play, is like she isn’t even here.

The scratching post I bought her is working out great.. she hasn’t yet scratched the furniture or tried to climb the curtains.

She’ll let you cuddle with her and and will ball herself in the crook of your legs  or on your chest or the nook of your arm.

She’s fine with the dogs and is just a real sweetheart.

One funny thing..

Her arrival was the catalyst to an new Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy trick.

Now.. when you say WHO’S THE BABY? he jump up in your lap and throw his body backwards so that he’s cradled in your arm like an infant and nuzzles his nose into your neck as if to say ME! ME! I’M THE BABY.. NOT HER!!!

I have to find the video camera.. as annoying as it can get to be, it’s just too damn cute!