:: amalgam chewables ::

it was a strange and moving thing, coming face to face with the nearly invisible, yet easy to live with, adversary.

i pried at the mouse using the tongs with all the sensitivity of the most skilled TV drama surgeon.

and then it happened….

that little fucking bastard bit me.  right on my left index finger.  allz i was attempting to do was free him from from the terrifying grips of the oozy, sticky and inhumane trap of torture and death to which his face was affixed just seconds before.

these “sticky traps” that catch mice without breaking their necks or crushing them or poisoning them are apparently supposed to be more humane.  i bought them with the idea that they were a catch and release type of mechanism.  i can tell you, seeing a mouse wriggle himself into a little fury pretzel and literally shit himself from fear only to become exhausted and later die of starvation is anything but “humane.”

don’t buy those traps.  if you must, buy something that kills them instantly.  if they don’t cooperate and leave after you ask them nicely [and they won’t], there’s really no other way.  i just thought i would present my disgust for sticky traps.

-rrf

first story of the night:
“no… don’t do it.”

i drew my attention away from the drunken horde of cornhusker fans long enough to locate the action taking place in front of me. the young man seated in front of us had claimed the last piece of pizza and begun cutting off the crust.

this is what dash was referring to.  after eating the crust, the man started systematically removing the pepperoni and finishing those off 1 by 1.  both dash and i were in complete shock.  we had heard of people doing this before, but had never witnessed such a thing; wasting a perfectly good slice of pizza in such an improper manner

second story of the night:

“i just have to ask…so are you guys like… together?”

dash and i were at the garage playing a little ring toss, drinking some PBR’s and eating free cheezy poofs.  this girl who asked the question and her boyfriend were playing against dash and i; the losers buy the winners shots.

“no, we’re just roommates.”

having not quickly realized that answer didn’t fully clarify, she asked another question.

“so does that mean you guys are like…”

“oh no, i’m sorry,” i replied.  “we’re not lovers.”

“oh ok…you guys were just standing so close together i thought…”

“does this guy look like he likes other men?”  i pointed at dash.

“for the record, bro,”  her boyfriend chimed in, “she already asked me and i said no.”

thanks for that…bro.

-rrf