re: #128 UncleRancher

What is it with people and mice? They’re tiny little things.

Back when I lived in NYC with my ex-husbandoid, we had mice in our Brooklyn apartment. I wouldn’t have minded the mice at all, were it not for their habit of hanging out in the gas oven to enjoy the warmth of the pilot light — pissing and shitting whenever Nature called. Which meant that whenever the oven was turned on, the dried puddles of mouse-piss would heat up and start to emit a stink straight from Satan’s bowels.

The mouse-turds left elsewhere in the apartment didn’t bother me — after all, we had a terrier who shed huge tumbleweeds of dog hair year-round, and who sometimes liked to lift his leg on the left front end of the living-room sofa. And my ex was pretty much the gay version of Oscar Madison. So compared with the mess generated by the two of them, the mouse-turds on the kitchen floor were nothing.

But the damn mice hadda go and piss inside my oven, thereby producing the above-mentioned Smell From Hell. So eventually it came to me putting out glue traps and not giving a damn about how inhumane they are.