Slacker you say? Bad Blog mother? Battling rats? Hunkered down working on a secret assignment? Cranky? Just plain better things to do with my time?
Two of those questions are true. It’s up to you to figure out which ones. I’m not holding your hand here.
Ok, All right, I was battling rats. I wiggled into skin tight black stretchy pants, strapped on body armour, rigged up a flame thrower, and went in with the Groundsman. That’s his title. The Groundsman. He calls me Ms Oldbitey (maybe one day I’ll finish that PhD and make everyone call me Doctor Oldbitey). We’re a modern day rat battling version of the Avengers only The Groundsman has a beard and I’m wayyyy shorter than Mrs Peel.
Ever see that movie with Peter Weller, the one where rats invade his NY apartment (I think this was post-Robocop, but pre-Adventures of Buckaroo Bansai)? If I remember the title without searching the net, I’d have to say it’s called Of Unkonwn Origin. Mr Weller had a tough time getting rid of his rat problem. He tried everything, traps, poison, an exterminator, but nothing worked. They nibbled, gnawed, and chewed through everything, from boxes of food, drywall to power cables. I thought of Mr Weller. More specifically, I thought of the scene where he’s standing in front of the john, ready to wizz. The next moment, a soaked, rabid rat leaps up out of the bowl, and we’re led to believe his little gentleman was in mortal danger.
You bet I looked before I did anything in the ladies room later.
Of course I had to tell The Groundsman about the rat in the can scene. He’s so laconic I couldn’t tell if if he was amused, seriously grossed out, or thought I might have smoked my breakfast. He set out rat poison. I shut my mouth and went back to sweeping up rat turds and shredded cardboard.
Obviously Peter Weller didn’t use the kind of deadly rat bait we did. A week later, the front office reeked of dead rodent. One poor little sucker crawled onto the bed for the unwell kids. Maybe he was trying to snuggle under the blankies to stay out of the cold. Maybe he just wanted a comfy place to kick off. There he was, stone stiff, head on the pillow, eyes beady little x’s.
Moving on to a completely unrelated to rats matter…I pondered his whereabouts earlier; Greg Evigan–My Two Dads, BJ and the Bear.
Was I the only one who watched? Oh Come on! He popped up on Desperate Housewives! He was Edie’s ex, the father of her son! The episode where Edie got her kid a dog!
That said, I think more people should stand up and listen to Luce.