I set four traps last night with good Vermont extra sharp white cheddar. The mousmoleshrew simply crapped near all of them. I'm almost at wits end on how to rid myself of this thing. I'm thinking of getting one of my friends to bring over his night vision motion sensing cameras he uses to stake out hunting trails. I want to see what I'm up against. I imagine it's been inbred with multiple species of rodent. It has the basic body of a shrew, but with the metabolism of a mouse and the digging capability of a mole. I imagine it sees in infrared and can hear my heart beat through the walls. I imagine at night that it's digging its way through the thin fabric of reality and trying to tunnel into my head. I'm starting to thing that isn't mucus in my sinus cavities, but viscous, protein heavy fluid it will one day lay its eggs in.
I need more coffee. I need more sleep. I need more inspiration. I need more focus. I need more time. I need more of everything. Or maybe I just imagine that I do.
p.s. I may have made a fatal mistake and possibly opened this blog to the outside world. If for some far-fetched reason it gets out of control here, I'll have to lock it down. History suggests nothing will happen, entropy insists that it will.
I need more coffee. I need more sleep. I need more inspiration. I need more focus. I need more time. I need more of everything. Or maybe I just imagine that I do.
2 comments:
You can try castor oil if it is a mole. Moles detest castor oil.
Here's a candidate for you..
"That object - no larger than a good-sized rat and quaintly called by the townspeople "Brown Jenkins - seemed to have been the fruit of a remarkable case of sympathetic herd-delusion, for in 1692 no less than eleven persons had testified to glimpsing it. There were recent rumours, too, with a baffling and disconcerting amount of agreement. Witnesses said it had long hair and the shape of a rat, but that its sharp-toothed, bearded face was evilly human while its paws were like tiny human hands. It took messages betwixt old Keziah and the devil, and was nursed on the witch's blood, which it sucked like a vampire. Its voice was a kind of loathsome titter, and it could speak all languages. Of all the bizarre monstrosities in Gilman's dreams, nothing filled him with greater panic and nausea than this blasphemous and diminutive hybrid, whose image flitted across his vision in a form a thousandfold more hateful than anything his waking mind had deduced from the ancient records and the modern whispers."
HPL - Dreams in the Witch House
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