Well ex and hairy neighbour have finally done the dirty deed, with a suicide bid on the part of hairy neighbour as foreplay, and its somehow my fault, suprise suprise. Ex is now, as my dear old Granny would say "like a dying duck in a thunderstorm."
This is more how I view that sort of activity at the moment.
Trying to make a cup of tea this afternoon a mouse shot out of the kitchen drawer. I've filled every hole I can find with plaster and wire wool and will finally have to graduate from traps to poison. It's hard, seeing little rumps with tails disappear like a shot, not to feel that my dogs aren't actually long -haired rats. I'm going to have OCD if I don't get on top of this.
To add further to the gloom, the day started with the police asking me if I knew anything about the dead baby a few doors down. Found that it had been reported in the papers two days ago. Well that's cities for you. Havn't commented before on events at Clapham Common this month. Walking home from where my family live cuts right across the common and I'm always leaving late. Try explaining to gentlemen appearing from bushes that you really are just walking two yorkshire terriers home.
1 comment:
Christ, dead rodents and dead babies. It's all going on in your neck of the woods.
I was appalled by the events on the Common. Glad they've caught the fuckers, but it seems that the media focus more on the fact that someone is cruising rather than it being a hate crime.
Your ex sounds like he needs a daily dose of drama, intravenously.
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