cats

I Think I Smell a Rat

Wednesday, September 25th, 2013

For days now, I cannot get this song out of my head.

No, not because of my love of the White Stripes or my  ”mostly attracted to, but slightly repulsed by” Jack White crush, but because my house has rats.

(I’m sorry, Mom. I know this is pretty much your worst nightmare. I was hopeful the title might have scared you off.)

The good news is I wasn’t here for the worst of it – although living vicariously through the friend staying at my place’s mortified texts and PHOTOS once she forcibly (fought one

This image was associated with a story about "rat meat sold as lamb in China." So much for tastes like chicken. Or ever eating anything in China. Ever.

This image was associated with a story about “rat meat sold as lamb in China.” So much for tastes like chicken. Or ever eating anything in China. Ever.

on with one of my large kitchen spoons while it came at her and bit scratches into the other end of the spoon) caught two of them on sticky traps will provide excellent PTSD fodder for years to come – or was I?

See, I don’t know.

And I’m not sure what rats smell like, but I keep waking up at all hours and creeping around my house both hopeful (?) and terrified I will discover something and thinking I smell something “weird.”

Here are the facts as they stand:

1. They tore down two dilapidated houses next door. Three days later, I have rats.

2. Despite my $1600 a month plus utilities rent, my landlord is a total slumlord bastard. Nothing is fixed. Nothing gets repaired. The place is probably six months from falling in on itself. He’s also prone to threatening to evict me – or maybe worse. The notes say things like “you won’t like what I’ll do.” Maybe he means release a bunch of rats? – because he hallucinates that he hears the dog howling. At 3 a.m. When the dog is asleep. And I’m home. And the only creatures stirring are a bunch of rats.

3. One of the other renters here in Hell seems to function as a de facto maintenance man, but he is clearly terrified of the prospect of actually encountering one of these buggers. Not exactly confidence-boosting. He recommended I put out a bowl of Pine Sol.

Um, what?

4. My cat doesn’t give a sh*t. He was apparently sitting on the counter a few feet away from two of them (yes. They frequent my kitchen counter and knock stuff down. Which makes me want to firehose this place with bleach.) begging for his supper. Who can blame him? They’re practically his size. Or maybe he thinks I’ve added to the family. Welcome, Ratatouille, Squeaker, and Meningitis!

4. My dog wants to kill, but I don’t really want him developing a blood lust or have the experience of murdering smallish animals inside our 750-square foot house. See: 9-pound cat.

5. Same de facto maintenance guy “plugged all the holes” leading into this place and put some sticky traps under my stove. The rat(s) drug them both across the house, took some dumps on them, shook free (I found the traps face down in the middle of the room) and – presumably – are now trapped inside here somewhere.

6. Arson sounds nice.

 

 

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#1 Pain in the Ass Invention in the History of Time

Monday, August 12th, 2013

Canned cat food.

It’s gross.
It stinks.
It attracts ants, fruit flies and hobos.
It is a chore to dole out and keep fresh and makes my fridge reek in a “what’s gone bad?” kind of way.
Have I mentioned how much the fancy healthy stuff costs!?
I should eat so well.
In short, shit’s a thorn in my side.

Okay, okay.
Maybe not “#1″
And maybe not “in the history of time.”

That’s maybe my autocorrect and all this incorrect garbage it’s learned and how it continually changes correctly spelled words over to nonsense despite the fact that I’ve followed the instructions to clear its memory multiple times.
Forget that it’s learned curse words and foodie terms, I’m sick of the word “the” being changed to tW.
What the hell is that about anyway?

The “reply to all” email function is a pretty huge pain in the ass, come to think of it.
Especially if you’re prone to spouting off.
And especially espeically if you’re prone to spouting off behind (what you think are) other people’s backs.

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Adorablosity: Cat Performance Art

Tuesday, July 9th, 2013

Fu with laundryFor a limited time, renowned feline artist Fu Manchu is performing “Adorablosity,” a one-cat piece exploring the limits of cuteness, flexibility and questions of personal safety in a dog-infested world.

The $25 admission fee grants you access to the Adorablosity photo gallery, munchies from the communal bowl* (*dog bowl only ~ Fu Manchu edit) and a rare opportunity to watch this supremely talented avant garde artist do what he does best: nap and call it “performance art.”

Can’t make it to the live show?

Fu lounging in the bathroomYour $20 donation will result in an exciting video of the artist hard at work,

errrr….

at work, made especially for you.

Ridonkulous levels of cuteFor an additional $20 we will drone your name over and over again in the background in the freaky voice of your choice: weirdo, nauseating baby talk or spooky whisper.

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Like Sisyphus, I Am Bound to Hell

Sunday, June 23rd, 2013

I want to make out with whomever first penned that turn of phrase.

Male, female, illegal immigrant, underage child: I don’t care.

I giggle every time I read it.

In that spirit, take a gander at an awesome little video made out of highlights from”First World Cat Problems” (which includes the literary genius of the person who will hopefully give me mononucleosis.)

Enjoy!!!

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Once Upon a Time…

Tuesday, November 29th, 2011

Fu and I have some amazing bedtime stories to tell you…but not tonight.
Remember, third day’s the charm.

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