Steve Jobs is doing stuff to my computer

And not good stuff, either. He's sneaking shit on there. Like this song on iTunes. I didn't put this there, and unless my company has a night shift that I haven't been informed about, and my nocturnal counterpart has just a tiny hankering for modern blues, this crap arrived without my consent. What's next, allowing Apple to subliminally advertise, just because they happen to have the prettiest media player?

The way this site handles images might be second on today's shitlist. I'll get to that later, I have a bunch of albums I have to buy for some reason.

Da na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na....

Had a visitor last night at oh say about 1am. I didn't invite him, but I'm not convinced he didn't have an inside connection. I was just drifting off to beautiful solace when I'm rudely awoken. L is convinced there's something in or around the room. I try and reassure her that, clearly, nothing can be wrong because I'm about to fall asleep. She persists, real annoying like, and I'm forced to contemplate the possibility that something (someone?) has penetrated the fortress that is Casa De Sam.

While I'm thinking up that clever phrase, something (someone?) catches my eye, orbiting the room. I no longer think it's a human (unless it's stupid Gulliver during his travels when he's mini) and I have a strong inkling that it is batlike. I suggest that L leave, as she is not fond of animals. She leaves, and shuts the door behind her. Which is fine, except I'm left in the room with the angry, cornered, batlike creature.

I leave the room as well.

Now outside, I decide to turn the light on in the room. Now, if it's a vampire, it should vaporize. Or is that just daylight? Well we use those CFL bulbs so that's gotta be close enough. It continues to orbit the room.

I gather my batcatching equipment. Mostly, this consists of me putting a shirt on, and getting a towel. Now, I just have to go in the room, and catch the damn thing. Oh, and pray it's not like an owl or something. It only takes me like 8 minutes to summon the courage to go into the room. During that time, I nearly urinated myself 6 times, I tried to figure out if maybe the bat would just leave if I left it alone long enough (conclusion - yes but with smelly carcass to deal with + on my bed = not acceptable), thought maybe L would deal with it if I got her drunk enough (conclusion yes but not enough booze in house) and finally, just opened the door and did a half roll (ok I tripped a little) and assessed the situation.

Turns out the situation hadn't really changed. Still a bat (now definitely a bat) and still flying drunkenly around the room. Now, I should mention this was not my first (bat) rodeo. I had caught a bat in similar scenario at an apartment I lived in. Of course, my landlord was there too so I had the fake macho courage to propel me into the house. Plus, it was daytime and I had all my clothes on. This, obviously, was the big time.

I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye - my adversary was hurtling towards me at breakneck (approx. 4 mph) speeds. I flail, real awkward 9 year old girl like, with the towel at the tiny death machine. I slam the towel on the floor, and notice, miraculously, there is no more little rabid flying mouse noise in the room. I carefully try and find the little bastard in the folds of the towel (because, for some reason, I'm concerned about the health of this little piece of organic trash). I finally locate him, and pin him as he tries to worm his way out. He begins to emit little sonar noises continuously. Pretty irritating and impolite if you ask me. He's also baring his little fangs at me and swiping at me with his stupid wing. I squeeze a little tighter and this nonsense calms down. Time for freedom you little shit.

I bring Mr. Batwhore down the stairs and out the front door. (I maybe took some photos on the way) I try and gracefully fan out the towel to provide an opportunity for him to soar away gracefully, but instead, he falls into the plantings in front of the house. Very disappointing, and I make a note to re-evaluate our relationship as he is taking without giving to this point. I think maybe he's dead. I shine the flashlight on him, try and hit him with the towel, shout encouraging words to him. He makes some pathetic little noises, but doesn't appear able to fly. I feel bad, again, for some reason. I walk next to him to try and pick him up for a relaunch, but he falls out of my grasp and disappears into some weeds.

At this point, I think I've exercised due diligence in trying to save this creature's life, especially when he invaded MY house. Plus, I'm sleepy. I check in the morning, but he's gone. He either a) wised up and flew away, b)got eaten by our friend Stinky, or c) turned on the bat signal and got some pals to come help him. Yes, there are more options but how realistic is it that the bat won cab fare by playing dice behind our garage?

Now, I have to go patch the likely entrance for bats and other creatures in the closet, and wash my towel. I think the assclown pissed on mine.Hi. I'm not your friend.

Gone but not forgotten

It's not everyday you drive down the street and see a giant penis painted there. When it's drawn on someone's street who really appreciates it, you know you have something special. Fellow blogger T-Money had this little treat awaiting her on her last days in Maine. We should all be so lucky.
In the interest of due diligence, I've been scouring the city for the corresponding vagina. No luck so far. I will probably make some creepy rebirthing post if I find one though, don't worry.

You should read Trina's page. It offers everything you wish this one had, like coherent sentences, logical paragraphs, and humor. I read it EVERY DAY. Soon, I'll start poaching ideas from her and you won't even have to read this page. *sigh*

Stupid drunk ant

Actually, I coated that wire and the ant with Raid. Ha. Had you going though, I'm sure.

Stinky

Last week marked the return of everyone's favorite backyard friend, Stinky the Skunk. Stinky, not being the brightest, nor the most thoughtful of creatures, done got himself caught in my hav-a-hart trap. That made me hav-a-shit-fit. ha. He also ate my bait, which was not intended for him. Delicious wilted lettuce, wasted.
Hello, friend.

And back to the story. This is the 3rd skunk I've caught in this trap ('Sam,' you ask, 'why do you continue to set the trap if you know you're going to catch skunks?'. Well, grasshopper, I changed the bait from graham crackers with peanut butter - mostly because I kept eating it - to lettuce to attract groundhogs and not skunks. Unfortunately, some skunks, like some bloggers, are just too damn stupid.) The method I've devised for releasing the skunks is a complex one involving an impermeable barrier (in this case a trash bag), a stick to prop open the door, and legs to propel me far, far away when the skunk makes its exit. The theory being a skunk won't spray in a confined space (hence the trashbag), the hav-a-hart won't stay open without the stick, and I won't smell as nice if I don't run away.

So I try and implement the plan.

Except Stinky won't leave. His ass is hanging halfway out the door, and yet, he will not leave. Perhaps he, too, felt the bond between captor and captive. My own little smelly Stockholm Syndrome example.

Leave, for reals.

As you can surmise from the proximity of the photos, I'm not too worried about Stinky spraying me anymore. I'm more worried he's going to die in that cage and I'll have to figure out what to do with his carcass. So I implement a more aggressive forced egress approach.



Untitled from Sam and Vimeo.

Like you with that video,I eventually lost interest and just left him alone for like a half hour. He left. Also left a nice surprise outside last night. See where kindness to animals gets you? Nowhere.

Oh, if you were wondering, I didn't have any means for transporting Stinky elsewhere instead of letting him back into my yard. If only I had a pickup.