Friday, March 26, 2010

Hey you guys

Hey! I have done a little bit to pimp up the blog. Not much, but there is a search bar now so you can check to see what I've said about you. You can search for anything, but I figure that is where it will be most useful.

There is also a poll, although not one that I will be using the results for anything. I just thought it would be funny to take myself out of context, and make it easier for anyone who wants to accuse me of crimes.

-Smackie Onassis

Senator Mousington

A while ago we had a mouse in our house. We would see it darting under couches and hear it scurrying around at night. I nicknamed him Senator Mousington, which stuck.

"Senator Mousington, how do you respond to allegations that you are a dirty rodent?"
"Mousington, what are your policies regarding eating our cheese?"

We weren't really sure if it was just one mouse, or if there were multiple Senators Mousington around. We figured out that it was just the one when the Senator was finally impeached by a mouse trap in the study.

There was only one night where Mousington really bothered me. I was in bed and I could hear him scurrying around somewhere. I would turn the lights on and the noise would stop. Looking around, I would find no mouse. The problem was that as soon as the lights were out, the noise would start up again. I never found where the mouse was hiding.

Flash forward to the other day when I was getting ready for the Pixies. I have these fantastic black boots that have a platform wedge and a bunch of buckles and laces. They make me look much cooler than I have ever had the ability to act. I hadn't worn these boots for a while, but I thought they would be perfect so I started putting them on. When I put my foot in them, something was not right. I peeked inside. These are reasonably high boots so it was hard to see what the problem was. When I put my hand in to feel around, I discovered that there was a hole in the sole and the entire inside of the platform had been eaten away. It was suggested that I had just worn them down, but there were a good few inches of shoe that were missing and it was all torn up. It had clearly been eaten.

I realised with a start that this meant Senator Mousington had at some point been trapped in my boot and tried to eat its way out. Vegatrain was the one who figured that it would probably have been that night where I couldn't find him. The whole time, he was almost definitely right next to my bed, eating my favourite boots.

Horrifying. Just... horrifying.