RED! The blood of angry (wo)man!
Yay for obscure musical references (a point to anyone who can name the show)...
My rage: the mouse chronicles
A few days ago, I was awakened by the "nibble-nibble, gnaw-gnaw-gnaw" of a little, uninvited furry guest in my roommate's closet. Having been settled in my loft bed with internal heater for some hours already, I threw a book at the door and the resounding, satisfying SMACK that it made was enough, for that night, to scare the little critter into silence. Satisfied that my work had been done, I rolled over and snoozed away.
The next night, without a concern in my little curly head, I lay down to sleep. After a confrontation with an RA who, out of confusion and frustration, tried to unlock my door with the wrong key at 1:30 in the morning, I lay back down. Just as the very first tendrils of blissful slumber begin to wind through my limbs... "nibble-nibble, gnaw-gnaw-gnaw"... FUCK! I throw another book. And 20 minutes later I climb down, pound all over the cabinets and scream loudly. Ascending once more into bed, I drift through the renewed silence into dreamland.
Last night, the "nibble-nibble, gnaw-gnaw-gnaw" began almost as soon as I turned out my light... and I thinkest to my self "That little furry bastard wants to play hardball... BRING IT ON, BAISCH!" I lept from bed, threw on the light, ripped open the cabinet door and gasped... cotton... little balls of shredded cotton and cardboard littered the entire floor of my roomie's closet. That little furry bastard had decided to make a nest out of my Chub's favorite (and rattiest, I must add) slippers and a blue gift box from American Eagle she had been saving for some reason. I immediately snatched up his fodder and threw it in the trashcan, sprinkled some pepper around (for some reason, most animals hate pepper) and banged on the doors some more for good measure. Leaving the cabinet door open to discourage any sense of security the little ashole may have had, I cursed... "asshole"... and went back to bed.
Today, I went to Res Life and got what I'm calling his very own, personal messenger of DOOM. I'm calling it Peanut Butter Revenge in honor of all of my lost sleep... "nibble-nibble, gnaw-gnaw-gnaw" on this, Fucker...
My joy: "How's this for schmoozie...I checked my email before going to bed hoping you had sent me something because I was wanting to call you again all night but I knew I'd never get my quiz written if I did. So you are now reading an email I sent late last night in reply to an email that I wasn't even supposed to get until early this morning all because I was having trouble going this long without talking to you. " (from my man, the high-school history teacher. I woke up to this... I'm smitten...)
My rage: the mouse chronicles
A few days ago, I was awakened by the "nibble-nibble, gnaw-gnaw-gnaw" of a little, uninvited furry guest in my roommate's closet. Having been settled in my loft bed with internal heater for some hours already, I threw a book at the door and the resounding, satisfying SMACK that it made was enough, for that night, to scare the little critter into silence. Satisfied that my work had been done, I rolled over and snoozed away.
The next night, without a concern in my little curly head, I lay down to sleep. After a confrontation with an RA who, out of confusion and frustration, tried to unlock my door with the wrong key at 1:30 in the morning, I lay back down. Just as the very first tendrils of blissful slumber begin to wind through my limbs... "nibble-nibble, gnaw-gnaw-gnaw"... FUCK! I throw another book. And 20 minutes later I climb down, pound all over the cabinets and scream loudly. Ascending once more into bed, I drift through the renewed silence into dreamland.
Last night, the "nibble-nibble, gnaw-gnaw-gnaw" began almost as soon as I turned out my light... and I thinkest to my self "That little furry bastard wants to play hardball... BRING IT ON, BAISCH!" I lept from bed, threw on the light, ripped open the cabinet door and gasped... cotton... little balls of shredded cotton and cardboard littered the entire floor of my roomie's closet. That little furry bastard had decided to make a nest out of my Chub's favorite (and rattiest, I must add) slippers and a blue gift box from American Eagle she had been saving for some reason. I immediately snatched up his fodder and threw it in the trashcan, sprinkled some pepper around (for some reason, most animals hate pepper) and banged on the doors some more for good measure. Leaving the cabinet door open to discourage any sense of security the little ashole may have had, I cursed... "asshole"... and went back to bed.
Today, I went to Res Life and got what I'm calling his very own, personal messenger of DOOM. I'm calling it Peanut Butter Revenge in honor of all of my lost sleep... "nibble-nibble, gnaw-gnaw-gnaw" on this, Fucker...
My joy: "How's this for schmoozie...I checked my email before going to bed hoping you had sent me something because I was wanting to call you again all night but I knew I'd never get my quiz written if I did. So you are now reading an email I sent late last night in reply to an email that I wasn't even supposed to get until early this morning all because I was having trouble going this long without talking to you. " (from my man, the high-school history teacher. I woke up to this... I'm smitten...)