Mickey the fake?

The Mouse family (Mouse IS Mickey's last name right?) apparently spans many generations.

I thought between the traps, the dog and blocking off their red carpet access to the basement, that we'd finally rid ourselves of Mickey and the Gang.

Wrong.

Yesterday, I used the guest bathroom and not only were there the usual turds all over the floor mat but, there were some new, highly scattered turds next to the toilet. These bastards bypassed the glue trap (after somehow taking a huge mouse dump on it and not getting stuck) on the OTHER side of the toilet and went around to crap behind the trash can. I could not believe it. (Perhaps this is my payback for the incident at Casey's last summer...that story is for another day.)

You'd think after this long dealing with these little assholes, I'd be used to it.

Wrong.

Today, I mentioned to Adam that perhaps a new trap is necessary, given the situation. He got a funny look and asked me to describe in a little more detail, exactly what the problem was and where it was located. By the time I was done, he was laughing hysterically. Naturally, I'm getting more and more pissed by the second, and am totally in the dark as to where the humor in this situation lies.

The "mouse turds" are dark chocolate cookie crumbs.

He ate cookies while taking a shit, tried to throw the package away (because, apparently, if you're going to eat cookies while on the toilet, they have to be 100 calorie south beach snack packs) and missed, therefore dumping cookie crumbs all over the floor.

I started to laugh, feeling pretty embarrassed for thinking they were mouse turds. Then I got mad again. Why, exactly, if you know you dumped cookie crumbs all over the floor, wouldn't you clean them up? Ugh. Men.

We did actually see a live mouse last night. Bella chased it into the fireplace. And so it continues.

P.S. Adam asked what I was writing about tonight, and I read this blog to him before posting it. He is STILL laughing about those damn cookies. The crumbs are still on the floor. And that's exactly where they're going to stay until he cleans them up.

P.S.S. Can I just say how satisfying it is to hit spellcheck and have its response be "no misspellings found?" GREAT!

WTF is going on around here?

Larry's day is always an interesting one. Seems I learn something new each week. Last week, we (surprise!) went to Super Sports in South Pekin. Who knew South Pekin was an actual town and not just a specific part of Pekin? Weird.

During this trip I learned of some new local landmarks. My husband likes to make fun of me since I get lost around town a lot. I've tried to explain to him that I need landmarks, not compass directions (Go north of county road 2300 E about 4 miles, blah blah blah. Who even knows what that means? Not gonna happen). Landmarks. When I say landmarks, I mean things such as, hey there's a 2 story white house on the corner. No, not the one with the giant wagon wheels, the next one. Turn there! Or, go past the McDonald's and turn left at the corner. (Sadly, all these are actual directions to my house. At least they no longer include, "turn off the paved road." Well, except when you turn into my unpaved driveway. Whatever.)

During our minivan ride to Super Sports, 2 new landmarks (which I hope to never pass for soon-to-be obvious reasons) were revealed, in all their glory.

1. The Old Deer Piss Farm
No, I am not making this up.

It did bring several questions to mind.
A) Where is it? (so I can be sure to avoid it)
B) Does it still stink?
C) Why is it the OLD deer piss farm? What's there now?
D) More importantly, who would PURCHASE, willingly, a farm known as ODP (old deer piss)? Well, formerly known as. It's like the artist formerly known as Prince, but now just a symbol. What would the Old Deer Piss Farm's symbol be?

Are you down with the ODP? Yeah you know me!

The second landmark, I am literally sad to report. I think this was it's actual name for some time, although no one (surprise, surprise) seems to know it's actual current name. Damn rednecks.

2. N-bomb Lake (I'll let you all take a guess as to which N-word)
Unfortunately, the use of that word is fairly prevalent around here. One stereotype about the country that, at least locally, is absolutely true. It's embarrassing for those of us who are civilized. When you hear that that's the name of a lake...where do you go from there? I was so blown away by the fact that not only was a lake once named this, but that everyone else in the van (except 1) seemed to know exactly what lake the person was referring to.

I had a whole diatribe regarding my thoughts on this "landmark" written here but, suffice to say, shock and awe pretty much sums it up.

There is nothing scarier than ignorance in action.

Sometimes I just sit back in amazement at where life has taken me. Never in a million years would I have imagined that I'd be sitting in a van full of people, driving through BFE-land being lectured on the longitude and latitude of something called N-bomb Lake. Just in case anyone doesn't believe that God has a sense of humor...

Side note: Oddly enough, the vast majority of locals voted for Obama. Just goes to show you how much they hated GWB's farm policies. Even stranger...some who voted for Obama still used that word in reference to him...which blows my mind since I wouldn't think you'd willingly elect someone to be your president if you truly believed they fit the literal definition of the word in question.

Whew, off the soapbox.

On another note, I opened the drawer under my dryer in a rabid hunt for dye magnets...only to find that I'd used them all and forgotten to buy more...and in their place was a drawer full of mouse shit. It never ends!!!
We blocked their entrance from the garage into the house, so now they're trapped in the ceiling and I can hear them running around all day and night. I HATE MICE. Those mofos are going down. I am sick of it. It's gross and loud and dirty in general. Yucko.

Mickey III

You guessed it. Mice (or meeses, as Adam would say) still live in Chateau de Goofy. (Is it too presumptuous to give your own house a name? Do people in Mason County know how to pronounce chateau? And I digress...) Adam says he saw another one, and Bella definitely dug one up for the Jehovah's Witnesses that stopped by a few days ago. Luckily all 4 stayed outside (2 JWs, Bella and her mouse, that is).

Speaking of Jehovah's Witnesses, this was a particularly interesting visit. Last year they stopped by our old house (down the road) when I was the only one home, greasy from working in the yard (ie pissed off that I was alone, dirty, prevented from continuing yard work--if I'd rather continue yard work than talk, you know it's bad--and that I had to deal with these loons anyway) and etc. The lady claimed to be from out of state, visiting a congregation in Pekin, heard how bad the area was, and so they headed our way. Great. She stayed and talked for probably 30 minutes, and nothing I said could shake her. Fast forward to this year.

2 ladies show up (and a dude who stayed in the car that I didn't see until they were leaving -- go figure, men stay in the A/C and drive). I hadn't showered, spent the morning cleaning and dealing w/ the dog's antics (again, pissed off) and didn't want ANYONE to see me in my nasty, smelly state. Oddly enough, I didn't feel bad about smelling like ass for the JWs.

The dog ran out the door w/ her bone (because all new visitors are greeted this way), and the same damn lady from last year is standing at the door, along w/ her taller, older accomplice. They start yammering away about how the lady is from Michigan and just visiting the area, etc etc. Same old song and dance. They even have the exact same book (The Watchtower) full of Bible verses and information. Even though their first question is whether I believe in Jesus as my Savior or as a great man who lived a long time ago, and my answer is that I have gone to church since I was born and do regard Jesus as my Savior, continue to go to church now, and am not a JW, this does not stop her. Motor mouth blabs on and on about how helpful the book is, which I already know since she gave it to me herself last year. Finally she tries to sum up by telling me that I should read this book along with my Bible and it will answer all my questions. Unfortunately, that did not sum it up because a few things happened in a blur.
1. The taller lady standing behind Motor Mouth started talking for the first time, and made some wide hand/arm gestures, and accidentally smacked MM in the face. Apparently the taller woman is blind. It was really hard to hold it together at that point.
2. What the blind woman was trying to ask me was that if I had any questions while reading the book, would I like to have her congregation contact me? First off, I already told you I have a church and am not now, nor will I ever be interested in becoming a JW. Second, and most importantly, you just told me this book would answer all my questions...so which is it?
3. After the contradiction and me telling them I would not like to be contacted again, by anyone, and the blind woman hitting MM in the face, they tried to leave, so I figured I better collect the dog since she has an annoying habit of trying to escape via whatever visiting vehicle happens to be in the driveway. (God help our future children.) I made a comment about finding the dog and they go, oh she's right here playing with her booooooooooooooo......and never finished. It was not the bone. It was a dead mouse. Lord only knows if she killed it or the Lord smote Mickey III to save me from my trials and tribulations (MM and Sir Smaxalot). Either way, major props to the big guy in the sky for his comedic timing. It really was on point that day.
Thankfully, like all God's creatures, Mickey III did not die in vain, but served a purpose -- the JWs left pretty quickly after that. WOOT!

A few things to note after the experience though.

1. I accidentally locked the front door, therefore locking myself out of the house. Well, I didn't accidentally lock the door, I did that as soon as I opened it and saw MM and Sir Smaxalot standing there. I accidentally CLOSED the door and accidentally locked myself out. As I walked around to the garage, I noticed that apparently talking to me, stalking me and handing me their ridiculous book of contradictions was not enough, they also put a pamphlet in my garage door. That really pissed me off. GO AWAY PSYCHOS!
2. MM mentioned that she would have to go back to Michigan soon, as she couldn't afford to take a longer vacation than planned.

Vacation. VACATION?!?!

God forgive my complaining about a smaller-than-requested room in Aruba.

This is some people's idea of a vacation ?! And I thought I'd had some crappy trips. Wow.

I am reminded of a comedian who played here locally several months ago, who was reminiscing about his childhood and how, when there was a thunderstorm with lightning, his parents would run around the house, turning off lights and unplugging things, and demanding the kids do so as well. His childhood brain presumed if the lights were all off that must mean the lightning wouldn't know they were home, and pass them by. He referred to the lightning as the Jehovah's Witness of the sky. :)

Mickey Mouse Slaughterhouse

That's right, I murdered Mickey.

You may recall my very exciting stories about the mouse living in our house. He has been captured, along with his previously camouflaged friend - the gray mouse, all in a 24 hour period.

The first mouse, Mickey, the one we actually knew about, believe it or not was pretty cute. I felt bad. If I had to say a mouse was cute, this one would be the one.

We caught Mickey, and thought our mouse debacle was over. WRONG!

As I was typing my blog yesterday, I heard the spring/door stopper make that springy sound as if something had just hit it. Given that I was in the room alone (I thought) and Bella was asleep on the couch...I realized there had to be another furry creature living amongst us. Frickin great.

Mickey Jr. was sent to be slaughtered just after midnight last night.

Life is good.

Lauren vs. Mason Country III: The Epic Battle Rages On

The first day the construction crew arrived, I scared them (and myself) by picking up a "shoelace" that turned out to be a mouse tail.

After they left, a SWARM, no, a PLAGUE of pecker gnats (unrelated to Randy, I think) just HAPPENED to show up. Adam said it was just a coincidence. I thought otherwise. I thought the crew stirred up all the dirt, sand and whatever else, and that's where the gnats were previously lurking.

Yesterday, the construction crew was back again. After they left this time, I noticed a trail of red ants marching in time throughout my master bathroom. Upon further examination, they were in every room of the house. Randy says it's the rain. I think otherwise. They stirred up the front porch to pour concrete yesterday, and I'm willing to bet that was the headquarters of Ants Anonymous, Mason County chapter.

This morning (thankfully BEFORE the crew showed up), I went to the garage to get Bella some food. As I made my second scoop into the AIRTIGHT SEALED CONTAINER, I scooped up a dead mouse. Screamed and swearing commenced. This time I only scared the dog.

My attempts to get Adam to come home and dead with the mouse mania were futile. I am sad to report that he laughed at me, said this is what happens in Mason County, there's probably more where that one came from, and to get a dustpan, scoop it up and throw it into the burn pile. Then he laughed some more.

I clicked my heels 3x, but I didn't get anywhere. Assholes.

Back to the "airtight sealed container," the only thing I can figure out is that it actually IS airtight, the mouse was in the container/last bag of dog food, and when we dumped the food bag in, it was smashed under 40 lbs of Iams Healthy Naturals Chicken, and suffocated.

I think this qualifies for FML. If you've never been to http://www.fmylife.com/, I HIGHLY recommend it. http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/ is equally outstanding.

What the hell was I thinking?!

Let me sum up the past few days and you can all be the judges as to whether I am cut out for this country lifestyle...

Thursday, my in-laws were visiting (with new trees to plant, so my universe pollution has been downgraded to a category go fuck yourself) and wanted to eat at Larry's (can you blame them?).

Off to dinner we went and during dinner, my wonderful, U of I educated, otherwise intelligent husband commented that since he turned 31 this year, it had been 10 years since he was legally able to drink. He mentioned that he'd tried to calculate how many beers he'd consumed over the last 10 legal years, and figured that if he drank a case a week, he'd end up with 48 cases of beer per year... When a few of us questioned how he came to that final total, he said (with a tone clearly indicating WE were all complete idiots) "well, 1 case times 48 weeks in a year = 48 cases of beer." I'm like yeah, buddy, we got that part...where did the 48 weeks come from? He had no idea. "Well, there are 4 weeks per month (still acting like *I* am the moron here), times 12 months in a year...48 weeks." This went on and on until finally his mother had to explain that the correct math would be 365 days divided by 7 days in a week, totalling 52 weeks in a year. He didn't believe her.

"How can there be 5 weeks in a month?"
"Are all the calendars wrong then?"
"I don't believe you!"
"What do you mean not 5 FULL weeks in a month?"
"How do you account for February then? No months have to have SIX weeks to make up for it, so how do you explain that?"
"What about leap years?"

Wow.

I have a sneaking suspicion that his parents may be writing to U of I and asking for some of that tuition money back.

Maybe it wasn't the excess "smart cells" that would cause his brain to burst....


Sunday, we went to Steak n Shake and got into a discussion about where certain fast food chains started out.

Adam: "KFC, you know that one's from the south. Probably like Louisiana or something."
Me: "Or Kentucky..."
Adam: "...ooooooh. Duh. I meant to say Louisville, not Louisiana."
Me: "Right."
Adam: "Don't tell anyone about this, ok?"

Sure thing, sweetie! :)

Fast forward to this morning. I knew we had some construction crews coming to get the area in front of our garage ready for concrete, as well as bringing white rock in for the rest of the driveway.

I heard them show up and went out to see who was doing what and if they needed anything. I remembered the dog was outside, so I tracked her down and tried to drag her into the house. Bella is known for finding all sorts of lovely treasures, especially since previous construction crews have left lots of garbage everywhere. So far she's found 6 week old chocolate milk still in the container (smelled awesome when accidentally run over w/ a truck. Who knew chocolate milk turns pink after awhile?), rusty nails, bricks, old detergent bottles and etc. Today, she ran up to me with a leather shoelace in her mouth. We don't let her bring garbage in the house, so I grabbed the shoelace, pulled it out, and wouldn't you know...it was not a shoelace.

IT WAS A DEAD FUCKING MOUSE.

I dropped the mouse, started screaming, cussing, didn't even realize the construction crew was staring at me until they were right in front of me asking if I was ok. Apparently I was wringing my hands and staring at the ground...still screaming. I can still feel that nasty mouse tail in my hand. GROSS! Needless to say, the construction crew had a good laugh over that one.

Unfortunately, nasty day was not over.

My car was in the way of the construction crew, so I tried to get the dog into the car and move it down the road. She got in, with the dead mouse back in her mouth.

I dragged her and the mouse out of the car, got back in and moved it alone.

She's been puking up undigested dog food for the last 24 hours, so I wanted to make sure she didn't eat anything else, or get in the workers' way, so I started to drag her into the garage, where she promptly started gagging...and coughed up ANOTHER DEAD MOUSE. 4 minutes of screaming and swearing later, the dog and I were finally mouse-free and indoors. She's been whining ever since. Tough shit, puppy.

Has anyone seen my easy button lately? I need it. Or a shot. Whichever you track down first. Please?!