Yeah, it's finally happened
The other night I came home, and there was a very particular kind of rustling sound under the kitchen sink (mouse), and I –– yelled... at.. it.
Oh, I also clapped. But I guess neither of those things worked, because I heard it again a few nights later. There are no mouse poops in my house, there's no evidence of any food being eaten - it's pretty clear this bastard doesn't live here but in the walls or with my neighbour. So what do I do? Should I set traps and kill it, or should I just try to deter it from visiting? Bear in mind when formulating your answers that I am a coward.
9 comments:
You bribe blue-job people to set traps and to clear them. (I hear you make great brownies). Remove everything from under your sink so that you don't have to look under there in the meantime. Leaving it be will not work. Trust me.
Lady! You have to set the traps pronto. Don't waste any good cheese - use peanut butter.
Then bribe your ever-reliable blue-job friend to come clear the traps. Will work for food and or wine. I trapped a mouse in a garbage bin at Angela's once and ran it out side to beat the shit out of it, but it ran away too quick. Anyway, you know I've bludgeoned thousands of mice before, so I'm your, er, man.
Set those traps! Good luck.
I had mice passing through from one unsanitary neighbor's apartment to another's, and so I finally had to buckle down and set some traps. It made me feel bad though, especially when the mouse did the death throes thing, and was quite dramatic about it I might add.
The good news is that if you kill one mouse, just take a photograph of the dead mouse in the trap, and set the photo somewhere near the floor where other mice will easily see it. Trust me, it works, mice are smart.
Um, does anyone have a picture of a dead mouse in a trap?
What Eric said is probably the third funniest comment anybody has made on your blog.
Mom
I was going to find you a picture of a dead mouse in a mouse trap, so I searched flickr and became too disturbed by some of the pictures I saw. I will never be the same.
Surely it is no longer tenable to consider white/blue-job division spiritually hierarchical if fear of dead mice is no longer cultivated as an artform.
Don't make fun of philosophers, son.
ATL, is that you???? I am *disconsolate* in your absence. No, you must come back.
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