Mother fucking squirrels. It got cold outside and now the furry little fuckers are everywhere, looking for places to stuff or bury their nuts.
I’ve been noticing in the past few weeks that there have been muddy little tracks along the trunk of the car. At first I thought it was one of the feral cats in the neighborhood, but they were too small and scratch-like. The epiphany came to me one morning as I was heading out to the car to go to work. Or rather, the epiphany tried to eat my face.
I had gotten in the car to find that the trash in the front seat was making me stabby, so I gathered it up and walked it the 20 steps across the parking lot to the dumpster. Of course, I left the door open behind me because it was twenty freaking steps. I turned around to witness a squirrel jumping into my car!
So of course, silly me stands there blinking like a cardboard extra in an episode of South Park, wondering if that really happened, before shaking it off and yelling an indignant “Hey, what the hell!” to the still morning air and three windows full of nosy-ass neighbors. I peeked my head in the door to see him sitting on the passenger side floor mat, puffy cheeked and hissing at me. Because clearly, I was the bitch for interrupting his breakfast. I ran to the other side and opened the passenger door, and out he ran, puffy cheeked and hissing all the way. I think I actually heard him say “Fuck You” from the safety of his tree.
Since then, I’ve seen the same squirrel tracks on my trunk all the time, despite heavy rains and gas station squeegies. So the little fucker is clearly stalking me, and I don’t honestly believe that I’m kidding about that at this point. As I was leaving the office this afternoon, I rounded the corner of the building and witnessed a squirrel stuffing a nut in my freaking tail pipe! Before I could even grab my phone to snap a picture, he saw me coming, grabbed his nut, and scampered across the parking lot. I got in the car and started the engine, again, slow to move toward any discernible goal because did that seriously just fucking happen?!? No way. So as I was leaning over to close the door, there he was.That fucking squirrel was sitting in the parking spot next to mine, staring at me!
It was an old fashioned stare down,neither of us moving. Barely breathing. And then he started weaving back and forth, ducking his head and shifting his weight from side to side, like a furry, rabid little running back. It was like last call at the bar and he wasn’t sure he was drunk enough to go home with me. I slammed the door before he could make up his mind one way or another and he went about cramming his nuts in some other unsuspecting chick’s dirty exhaust hole.
Yet despite their rabid and obviously anti-social tendencies, more than one of these furry little bastards actually attempted to invade my domicile. To come into my home where I house a maniacal, squirrel decimating madcat. And that is why squirrels will always be nature’s little speed bumps.
Fuck your geese, Dani. At least you can eat them when you get tired of being mind fucked.