Thursday, February 24, 2005

I Clutch Thy Heart At Last!

I was in the kitchen today doing my normal morning stretching/yawning/ball-scratching routine when I happened to look out the window onto the breeze way. And who should be out there staring back at me with beady little eyes and twitching tail? The fat squirrel. Now I've mentioned this insolent, flea-infested critter before. He's the one who looks like he swallowed a soccer ball. He's huge. I mean, if he jumped up in the air he might stick.

Well, the chubby little fucker was sitting on the tupperware container that we keep the birdseed in. It's the size of a coffee can. You could barely see it through all the fur and blubber perched on top of it. That round rapscallion of a rodent had chewed through the lid and was busy eating the seed. When he saw me, he didn't seem the least bit concerned so I rapped on the window and yelled. He paused for a second and then went back to stealing the birds' food. That mother fucker! I started pounding and screaming. He finally gave kind of a half shrug and lumbered off. I think he actually may have given me the finger, I'm not sure. Little prick!

Must deal with this. That blubbery nuisance will be exterminated forthwith and with extreme prejudice. All other projects or concerns in my life will be put on hold until that mangy menace is taking a sound dirt nap. He is my Mobey Dick. I'm his Captain Ahab. I must get The Cod God to be my Queequeg. But instead of a harpoon, he will have his pellet gun. And I will succeed in offing the creature unlike Captain Ahab!

Now, three to three, ye stand. Commend the murderous chalices! Bestow them, ye who are now made parties to this indissoluble league.... Drink, ye harpooneers! drink and swear, ye men that man the deathful whaleboat's bow -- Death to Moby Dick! God hunt us all, if we do not hunt Moby Dick to his death!

I will need more members of my crew to man my house which will be temporarily named The Pequad. Maybe B-Face could be Ishmael and record the event. I will also need provisions for the journey. Rum and lots of it. And more Rum. And one silver pellet for The Cod God's gun. And Rum. Are Ye up for it?

4 Comments:

At 12:54 AM, Blogger B-Face said...

I don't want to be Ishmael. Everyone knows that he and Queequeg were gay for each other.

 
At 2:26 PM, Blogger The Cod God said...

Hey, we gotta keep it in the family. Although, if I was gay I would hope that I could do a helluva lot better than you.

No offense.

 
At 10:36 PM, Blogger Wheel Gun Bob said...

"If" ?

 
At 11:36 PM, Blogger B-Face said...

Bob, did ya shoot the squirrel yet or what? I want to hear about it.

 

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