18 January 2006


I saw my first decent sized rat cleaning up sawdust underneath the mill. I was shovelling away when I thought I saw a black snake out of the corner of my eye. The snake slithered behind a big steel piling. On the other side of the piling the rat attached to the snake like tail appeared. It was a big motherfucking rat. Fuck was it big. I almost barfed. I was not real keen on cleaning up under the mill after I saw that rat. It was black and ugly as a cat ran over by car.

My first house had no rats. All we had was mice. Mice are so cute except for their brown peewee football turds.

The next house had no rodents. I bet there are lots there now. It is in the heart of rat territory - Sliverville - Rat Capital of the World.

The house Sonja and I rented off the old dear across the road from the ambulance depot had no rats. But there were always rats hiding in the old shed where I kept my motorcycle. "Get away from my bike you motherfuckers!" Then I would slam the shovel down on their whiskery brown heads. Bam. bam. bam. No matter how hard I hit them they would not die. The traps killed them though. Whack! right on the neck. If they did not get it on the neck I would have to whack them a bunch of times with the shovel. Whack! whack! whack!

When we moved into the heart of Sliverville, the Bolly neighbourhood, that's when we met the real rats of the world. One time we were eating dinner watching the TV when we heard one beavering away at the kitchen cupboards like a motherfucking chainsaw. The rat had more power in his jaws than a logger's brand new Stihl. The fat bastard got a hold of one of my oven mitts and shredded it like cafeteria coleslaw.

At that house my first dog Arrow used to kill rats by the dozen. She would kill them and leave them lying in the grass. In the summer they would rot something special. I don't know how many times my rotten dead stinkin' rat radar would go off just before I stepped on one with my bare feet. Makes me shivver just thinking about it.

My second dog Strangler ate his rats alive. Sonja got treated to seeing Strangler with a still frantically moving rat tail sticking out of his gob one day when she came from work. Good dog! barf! barf!barf! There is nothing quite like having a dog with rat breath. You think your dog's breath stinks like shit now? Feed him some rat to find out what real bad breath smells like.

Our new dog cannot wait to eat some rat. She drools like a backwoods preacher catching his first sniff of a hooker's ass who was in a rush to wipe up after her last customer when she sees a squirrel. The rats are going down!

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