I don't need no stinkin man....

So Sunday I didn't have practice so I decided to take the opportunity to clean my pig sty of a house since I would finally be home for more then a minute. I wanted to really deep clean each room, move some furniture around, hang some pictures, and just basically get organized. I had finished up the living room and decided to attack the kitchen. I started on one side and began to move small appliances and clean behind them. I get to the corner of my counter where my microwave and toaster are, this counter area meets the stove. I pull out the toaster and see something right next to the stove....it's a mouse's ass. It's a dead mouse's ass. So after the screaming, wiggling, gagging, and just basic freaking out ends I inspect dead mouse's ass further. It doesn't stink and I haven't smelled anything bad so it must not have been there long. At first glance I thought, "What the fuck happened to it's head?" Then I realized that the damn thing was trying to get behind the stove and got stuck and died there. It's head is behind the stove. Now how the hell am I gonna get it out of my house??!!???

I am your typical girl, I don't do bugs, rodents, or reptiles. My dog put a spider in her mouth once and I screamed so bad that Cabana Boy thought terrorists were invading the house. Now this mouse problem is not new. I have been fighting an endless battle with the little fuckers for months. Just when I think they have all been trapped, I see another one. I have seen them in every single room of my house. It is disgusting. Since the traps haven't caught any for weeks I assumed that I finally got them all. WRONG. Now up until this point I have not had to deal with them myself. I would ask CB to take the traps out and throw them away. Which he would do only after taunting me and making fun of me first. Bastard.

So now I find myself in a sticky situation. Do I call one of my many homeboys and risk life long ridicule for making one of them come over to deal with a dead mouse's ass or do I suck it up and do it myself? I call my best friend and her hubby answers. I tell him my predicament and he laughs. Now I know I must do this myself. On go the rubber gloves up to my elbows. I pull my shirt up over my mouth and nose. I break out the tongs. I grab the mouse's tail with the tongs and pull. Nothing. I am going to have to grab it's ass. More freaking out and wriggling ensues. I grab it around the body with the tongs and pull. Gagging commences as it leaves behind some nasty residue and fuzz. Did I mention that there was a turd coming out of it's ass? Well there was. I quickly drop the mouse and the tongs into a ziplock bag and seal them up. I run out into the alley and toss the mouse into the trash. More freaking out and wriggling. I also decide the gloves must be trashed as well. Should I burn these clothes? No, I think they'll be ok since the mouse didn't touch them directly.

I go back in the house feeling quite proud of myself for dealing with such a horrible situation. I think to myself, "I don't need no stinkin man."
Then the realization hits. I don't NEED a man, but I WANT a man. So until that day comes I will be happy in the fact that Tom is moving in and he can deal with dead mouse's asses.