PETA Would Be Proud

PETA would be proud

When I was 7, I walked in on my Father going to the bathroom, or as we like to call it, his personal library. He was sitting on the toilet and from that one instance, seeing him sitting, I deduced in my impressionable blonde mind that at a certain age men’s wankers fall off and they have to go to the bathroom just like girls. The funny thing is, I don’t ever recall ever seeing a man stand up to pee either. I guess it was ingrained somewhere in my psyche, must have been a boy who taught me about the dangly thing.

I recall this one moment, because I had another such walk in just recently. I needed a beach towel which are stowed away in my parent’s boudoir. The door was ajar and without suspect I opened it, looked up for a brief second, saw my Father sitting on his thrown with a book in his lap- after all, it was his library.

Thank Gah for the book!

I quickly retreated backwards with eyes shut and apologized profusely.

Than I retreated down the hall to the kitchen where I began to shake off the incidence. Just then a huge yelp from an unsuspecting Boo cried out. “Grandpa, shut the door!”

As he walked down the hall, his trail of disgust kept going, “Oh Gah, Oh Geez, Oh the horror. My eyes, my eyes.”

“Walk in on Big Daddy?”

“Ughhh, he didn’t shut the door.”

“Yep, me too. Beach towel. You?”

“Toilet paper. Ughh”

We had a good laugh about it only because once Big Daddy hits the library; the glorious odor that comes from his ‘reading’ leaves you staying a distance away from the entire bedroom wing. I never did get that beach towel and Boo hustled Big Daddy's woman in for the paper.

Now it seems, some rats have taken to my storage unit and have converted it to their own private library. I noticed their ‘reading’ all over the sheets that cover my antique chairs. I have discussed the problem before with the management but all they want to do is place rat traps and poison in my unit to rid me of their problem. Unfortunately, I rather see dried droppings than dead carcasses of rodents left behind by torture.

Imagine them dying in my space, near my things.


I rather sit in Big Daddy’s library after he read the entirety of ‘The Blah Story’, which is a 13 million-word book by Nigel Tomm!!


So, instead of killing the walking typhoid fur balls, I have decided it is in my best interest and the rats, to move.


The Blonde hates animal control!

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