Okay, just to let everyone know how sad my life has become, I waged war on a squirrel last night. I've seen this squirrel around my apartment ever since I've moved in. He's everywhere. But ever since I've gotten my dog Abby back from my folks, this squirrel has exhibited some pretty nasty behavior: he has decided that my balcony is his personal sun porch. This wouldn't be a problem at all except that it leaves Abby trapped in my apartment, behind a sliding glass door while this squirrel taunts her. He walks right up to the glass in front of her which makes my dog whimper, snort, and generally panic. So last night, in the spirit of Carl Spackler, I decided that "the only good varmint poontang is dead varmint poontang," and I chased that squirrel around the apartment building with a waterbottle and squirted the thing. I don't want to kill the squirrel, I just want to send him a message. It truly was Caddyshack night at my house. I would squirt the water around a corner, and the squirrel would escape only to poke his head around the corner a few times to let me know I didn't get him. That fucker! If the tauntings of this squirrel don't drive me crazy over the next week, then surely the Kenny Loggins going through my head while I chase him will.
1 comment:
Yeah, my parents keep a locked/loaded super soaker propped against the back door just for the squirrels. Sometimes my Mom will be mid-story, get the thousand yard stare, then march outside and let loose the wrath. Then come back in and finish the story as if nothing happened. Endemic to H-town, yo.
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