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My Tree thanks to slodwick

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Don't Call Me Kevie

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Big Girls Blouse
My Tree thanks to slodwick
Down at the radio station today, and while I was sitting at the desk downloading the weather when I heard a rustle in the bin. I figured it was just the garbage settling until I felt something falling down my leg. It was a mouse using me as a ladder. Ick Ick Ick. I did do a girly squeal, and started to do the hand shake that is not unlike a bit of a jazz hands things, but I managed to refrain from running from the building which I am proud of. (Ya gotta take the little things where you can.) But ew - the station has mice. It isn't surprising considering the mascot Love birds are inside, and have dropped some food behind the filing cabinet for the nieghbourhood creatures, but I really could have lived without the up close and personal contact.

I'm brave - noises in the dead of night I can handle, I can kill a Huntsman spider with only a rubber thong, but mice on the person is ... icky. I'm such a blouse

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My sister has been having problems with mice in her flat ever since her cat died. The first time she noticed the problem was when a whole packet of chocolate biscuits disappeared from her bottom cupboard -- wrappers and all. A very scary wake-up call for a chocoholic.

See, now taking off with a packet of choccie biscuits is just wrong. Mice are evil.

Ick. Just... ick.

Say, have I ever told you about the very expensive NYC hotel I was staying in, only to find it infested with mice migrating from the hotel being torn down from down the street? No? Icky story. :shudder:

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