Asshole, Part Deux
You go away for the weekend and your Asshole squirrel moves right in and parties his ass off. This morning, as I was once again pulled out of my slumber (albeit a little later than the usual 5am wake up call) to Asshole tap dancing on the air conditioner, I discovered this little nest-delight fully formed in my window. Oh wait....he's back! Yes, at this exact moment, Asshole just crawled back into his snuggley little home and he brought a MacDonald's bag with him. Every good home needs a MacDonald's bag as part of it's integral structure.
As I fully realized Asshole's intent of becoming a tenant, a room mate, an obnoxious pal....I thought to myself: I'm not living with an Asshole. This thought was followed by thinking: my good friend Donna needs to come over here and deal with this because I certainly can't. I don't know why I have this irrational fear of Asshole, but I do. I'm not afraid of other squirrels; however, in my defense, they are not trying to shack up with me. Upon more reflection, I thought to myself: if you cannot manage evicting an Asshole, how the fuck are you going to deal with pretty much anything in Africa? You know, like lions, tigers and bears. So, I mustered up my courage and a broom and evicted the Asshole. All of this occurred before 6:30am; his timing is impeccable, I'll give him that.
He'll be back.