Walt Disney never lived in an old farmhouse in the autumn–that’s all I can say. Or if he did, he was a little off in the head. Hearing scratchings and gnawings at 9 at night is no way to make anyone a happy camper. What’s so lovable about a mouse? I don’t care if you stick pants on it and give it a girlfriend and a dog, the mouse still deserves nothing more than some D-Con or a quick snap to the neck from a mousetrap.
Can you tell I have mice in my walls again?
I’m grumpy–you don’t want to talk to me today. Have a nice weekend, everybody.
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