The Zoo over Ambuscade Street

Ok, I tried, but dear god I have no patience with terminally stupid people today! Remind me to shoot someone responsible for warnings like "Do not stick toothpicks into ear canal" for making it that much harder for Darwin to work his magic.

But that's it, I swear.

[EDIT] For the record, there are situations where an "opinion" can be wrong. In my opinion, 1+1=3, but that doesn't make it either right or defensible. It's wrong. Defending it by saying "that's just my opinion" doesn't work.

I can't believe, that in all my long-winded ramblings about the weekend, I forgot the two strangest parts.

While we were going to the Farm Of Gorgeous Hugeness, heading down 17, we crested a hill just in time to see an oncoming truck at the bottom of the hill slam on its breaks (the whole front end dipped alarmingly), jerk off the road onto the shoulder, and the driver burst out and went sprinting across the road into the woods like he was being chased by demons. Or cops. When we passed the spot where he went into the woods, Erik was still able to see him, still sprinting at full speed into the woods. No idea what that was about.

That same day coming home, we turned onto our (gravel) road at around midnight. We came around one curve when a car shot out from the side of the road in front of us and zipped off into the night. That was odd. Once we got to my driveway, things got even odder. The entrance to my property is right past the apex of a curve, and the left side of my driveway has a slight embankment. The combination of these two factors makes it hard to see my driveway until you're right on it. I had gotten halfway into my driveway when I abruptly had to stop, because the same maniacs who had zipped out in front of us were sitting in my driveway, facing the road, with engine running but lights off.

I stopped cold, slightly stunned and completely at a loss as to what I should do. I can't really describe how it felt, having two complete strangers hiding out in my driveway, but it was all kinds of unpleasant. At Erik's prompting I flashed my highbeams at them, backed up enough that they could get out, and that was that. We were both pretty nervous all night, which resulted in Erik repeatedly thinking he heard someone walking in the gravel outside, which resulted in much leaping out of bed and the brandishing of firearms.

Oh, and while chasing the mouse about last night, we managed to explode a broom. We won't be buying that kind of broom again...

The little bastard showed up again, dashing behind the entertainment center in plain view. It Was On.

Erik insisted that he was too fast, that we wouldn't be able to get him. I didn't care - in my rage, I bashed the broom behind the entertainment center as far as I could get...which caused the little bastard (very little, actually) to run out directly into my bare feet. After that, there was only one way this could end.

He went under the loveseat this time, but we were wise to his ways - I blocked off his exits, then used my shileleigh (since we now only have one broom) to make sure he wasn't hiding on the ground. Then, I got on the loveseat and jumped on it until he dashed out, and ran into the master bedroom and our closet. There, we had him trapped, but the shoes and things in the closet made actually killing him a bit problematic. Then Erik had a brilliant idea.

I should have run then. He went out to his car...and got a can of mace. Confiscated, of course, and 2% rather than the 5% OC they use on the street, but still...mace. He then proceeds to drive the mouse into the corner that holds my various bridal formals, crawls into the closet - and soaks the mice with mace. While he's in the closet. A small, enclosed area, without sufficient ventilation.

I'm sure you can imagine the rest. He's choking, coughing, cursing, turning red, continuing to spray mace onto the mouse whenever an opportunity presents itself, etc. Finally, he whacks it with the shileleigh, runs choking out of the room, and makes me clean up the mess. Thanks Erik!

I only got a bit of it, but damn did that suck.

It does, however, bring to mind my very, very favoritest mace story ever, that I trot out at every opportunity, on the off-chance that someone hasn't heard it yet. It's not long, and doesn't need much elaboration. Once, when my sister was goofing off with my mother's car keys, she managed to spray mace directly up her nose.

Yes, you read that right. She sprayed mace. Up her nose. My mother (a nurse) was on the phone with poison control, holding my sister's head under running water (I think she was about nine or ten), laughing hysterically while she tried to explain the situation. Oh, it was brilliant.

And now my husband sprays himself with mace. I should note that this isn't the first time. Is there something about me that drives people to mace? If anyone else feels the urge to spray themselves, be sure to let me know.