Rudolph Update

New information in the Rudolph saga.  The note on the fridge was apparently written by my brother Sandy; when he woke up today he asked if we saw it.  We were all, yeah but the trap sprang without catching anything and he was like, what.  Apparently he heard what was, according to him, the most disgusting sounds he's ever heard.  He was convinced he was listening to Rudolph die, he heard the snap and a scuffle and then what he described as "arterial gushing," the sound of blood gushing out in time to a heartbeat.

So into the bathroom we go to check again, this time with a flashlight to make sure we don't miss anything.  And sure enough, about two feet back underneath the tub was a pool of blood...

...But no rat.

And there are no tracks to or from the blood either, no sign of anything being there, just a dried puddle of blood on the ground.  And it's pretty far away from the trap too, it was like two feet away and didn't have any blood on it at all.  The only explanation I can think of is he was flung there, bled out and died, and after the blood dried he reanimated and scurried off.  Clearly we have an undead rat living in the walls of our  house.  This will be Ground Zero for the zombified rat army uprising.

Honestly, I'm starting to think we should just give up and move out.  This is just too much for us.  He can have the house, we don't want it any more.

Important Breaking News, Man Has Kids?

In a fine display of "Who cares about this non-news" reporting, CBC has informed me that "families believe" that the late ex-PM John Diefenbaker was not childless after all, but in fact has two -- that's right, count 'em, two! -- sons.  According to CBC, having two kids is enough to count as "leaving progeny scattered across the country" because woah, two children?  Such a voracious output of sperm is absolutely unheard of!  Neither me nor my two siblings have ever heard of anybody having more than one kid.  And the two sons live in different places in Western Canada!  Holy cow!  Scattered across the country indeed, CBC.  I gotta say, I'm really glad somebody is reporting on this truly important breaking news that is the personal life of a guy who died over thirty years ago.  Way to be relevant, CBC.

Dear Drunk Lady Please Don't Grab My Food

Went down to Mardi Gras on George Street the other night with Ash and Yellow Dude, and had a blast (of course).  The evening was a ton of fun.  YD's Jack Skellington costume was a hit, my Vampire Queen costume was exactly what I wanted it to be, and Ash's rocker outfit looked badass.  We heard some great music, saw some great costumes, just generally had the sort of time you'd expect from Mardi Gras.  When we got bored of the street around three thirty in the morning, we hit the Celtic Hearth for some dinner, as we usually do.  Which is where some random woman walking past leaned over my shoulder and grabbed my sandwich.

Of all the weird people on the Street, this lady was the weirdest.  Like, seriously.  I don't go downtown often, but when I do there are always weirdos, and this person was the weirdo to out-weird all weirdos.  Exactly how drunk or how stupid do you have to be to walk past a complete stranger's table in a restaurant, take a liking to their sandwich, and proceed to grab it off their plate?  I was talking about something or other to Ash and YD, and all of a sudden they just got this look of utter shock on their faces.  Ash, momentarily speechless (an oddity, to say the least) managed to point towards my plate and say, "Uh, Robin!" in a horrified tone.

I look over and see some random person's hand clawed around my sandwich and from behind me I hear some woman say, "Oh, can I have this?"  Without thinking, I knock her hand away and hunch protectively over my plate, my hands belatedly forming a shield over my poor groped food and saying, "Um, NO!"  I never did see her face, but Ash and YD told me later that her expression was really offended, and I hear her go "Awww!" in a disappointed tone as she leaves the restaurant.  Maybe she thought that by getting her hands all over my meal I'd be too disgusted to keep it and she'd get away with the bounty or something.  Clearly she has no idea how possessive I get over my food.  Back off, lady.  I'll fuckin' bite.

I Dreamed A Dream

Last night I had a dream that the walls of my house were full of maggots.  Not tiny normal maggots though, but giant snakelike maggots.  And they would burrow through the walls like fish swimming through a coral reef.  I watched them come out of the mouth of a man on a poster in my room, and go back in through his eye.  We didn't know where they were coming from, until we went underneath the house to look at the foundations and saw what must have been at least a dozen blocks of cheese, huge blocks, the size of a large trunk or sailor's chest.  Then my alarm went off and I woke up, which was disappointing because I wanted to know how the cheese factored into all this.