" Poem 524
For Dorothy
A mouse fucking died.
Don't ask me how - the twat just died.
Old age or whatever - or a mousetrap.
Either way - no more mousey.
Aah.
I chopped the little wanker in half when I found him. "
(I wish. The poem by Tim Key).
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4 comments:
..and why not to do the same?
wonders ice
so you still got your 5th mousey hosue mate then
Oh yes!
We had a nice little dance the other day in the kitchen with Felicia and the mouse. Finally after ten minutes or so of exercise the mouse made a suicidal jump from the table to the floor (didn't die though).
Yes maybe I'll be angry enough soon to catch and kill the bastards with my bare hands.
Called the landlord today again, Naroa was shouting, he was shouting, and finally he hang up on us. Amazing.
I think the week in Finland is now much needed.
yes finland soudns good i have traps if you need them andrew and i are quite exsperianced at mouse catching with lil'basterd the 1st and lil' bastrerd the 2nd
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