That lazy ass sneaky stalker cat is obviously a Republican because she never catches any damn thing and only sends minions to do it so, of course, they don't and just laugh in her face. She will henceforth be known as Hillary but she hasn't asked for money yet. She will or she will steal it, sneaky bitch.
Food management in the Rockhouse is rigorous because there's not remotely enough of it for any food to ever hit the floor. Any food which is uneaten and won't go to the fridge becomes Toby the Dog's property because he's one of the last real Democrats who still works and believes and he fuckin' hates Clinton although he's not useful for killing rats. Anything he can't eat (i.e. not much except anything sweet, too spicy, etc) goes to one place in the house and there's never anything but paper or can rubbish anywhere else. All of that goes to only one place.
Therefore, there's only one place with any significant draw for rats and that's a bag of dog food. So every three or four years, a rat gets into the place, a common problem down here.
They do not reckon, however, on Yevette the Hunter / Seeker Rat Killer par Excellence. She set out a rat trap and within two days, THWACK, killed that rat bastard and sent him to beg for mercy from Jesus but that won't work because he loves everything ... but never any fucking rats.
Note: God made the rats, Jesus didn't do it.
Yevette uses that rat elephant gun and it smashes those evil little fuckers all to hell. I'm the lowly rat picker upper and I won't let her see the bodies even though there's some curiosity but it's like a car crash. Don't fuckin' look at it because (gasp) you might see it.
Yevette the Hunter / Seeker Rat Killer par Excellence said she thought she senses another one and always listen to a woman's rat intuition ... except (sob) when she's talking about you as they always will when they break up with you. It's not bad enough they kick your ass out of the world, they have to fuckin' tell you why, don't they ... for hours (larfs).
She laid out another trap and again within two days, THWACK, and another rat goes hopelessly to Jesus.
Glory. It was a beautiful thing although perhaps not so much in terms of his little smashed all to hell body. His rat mother (sob) probably doesn't think it's so beautiful ... but she will still probably eat his dead ass because a rat is far better at survival than you are.
She sensed one more and of course I listen.
Sure as hell, within two days, she nailed another one.
She said she thinks there is one more and that gave me the vision of an American invasion force in which it sends a battalion of rats for a single chunk of dog food so of course I believed her again.
Thus far, however, she has turned up zero rats and we already know her outstanding talents as Yevette the Hunter / Seeker Rat Killer par Excellence but nary another kill shot so far.
We want one because ...
because ...
we fuckin' love killing rats.
Make no mistake of the danger of rats as invasive rat species have been significant contributors to the reduction in species diversity in the planet as have feral cats introduced by humans and who wiped out an entire species of ground-nesting birds on one island among similar things on other islands without such destructive rodent / feline predators.
They have served as one of the most effective vectors of deadly disease (e.g. carrying fleas which carry bubonic plague) in human history possibly second only to mosquitos.
Therefore, smash their little bodies all to hell and no fuckin' way I'm picking it up until it stops moving. I don't care if they're just death jerks, I ain't fuckin' touching it.
Yevette has an astute rat-killin' sense as a long-time Texas safari hunter who never kills beautiful African wild animals or any in America either for that matter but she fuckin' hates rats. That sense led her to seek out the most killin' rat thwackers anywhere which always give a one-time kill shot. They also cleverly flip upside-down when they do it, thereby concealing the mangled rat body.
That leads to a clever segue to yet another festival of rodent killing and the weak of heart should probably (i.e. definitely) bail at this particular point in time.
Animal research labs for geneticists typically have a Mouse House and they have unbelievable numbers of experimental mice purchased specifically for genetics research and there are various reasons for that, all of which would probably bore the teeth out of your skull.
When an experiment runs to term, there is only one verdict for the mice: guilty. There is only one outcome: death.
Of course you ask how this happens so you roust all your graduate student research assistants and issue the directive, kill them bitches.
All gather around a metal table and, one mouse cage after the other, they grab the li'l mousies by their li'l tails, raise them up over the table and THWACK.
Naturally you ask, wtf happens to their dead li'l mousie bodies and perhaps you didn't already notice a bin of approximately three feet by three feet square and about four feet tall. Yep, chuck his still jerking li'l mousie body into the bin and grab another one. This is going to take quite a while.
Feast your eyes, if you will on the cumulative action of many, many li'l mousies in their final jerks of deadality and that's where an eleven-year-old towhead (i.e. me) entered the scene and saw that whole bin writhing with their li'l dead bodies. Yah, and thanks for that lifelong trauma, dear ol' Dad (larfs).
Hey, it's a parent's duty to instill lifelong trauma or what fuckin' good are you. I've written of the dead kangaroo previously but his sorry dead ass may be worth a rerun and (cough) thanks for that one as well, dear ol' Dad. He got a twofer on that one because he got my brother too. That old coot did some funny shit (larfs).
Make no mistake of the near-miraculous discoveries which have been made regarding genetic diseases and study of genomes and some of it may be too miraculous (e.g. enormously modified E. coli bacteria) but that's a subject which didn't elicit any particular controversy here which actually kind of surprised me. I must (sob) be losing my touch.
The result of their work has resulted in saving human lives and you have two options: deal with it and be a good doobie of a researcher to discover if there are better ways or go to Facebook and bitch pitifully about (sob) our brothers the viciously-murdered rodents. Nothing will happen but it at least affords the opportunity to pretend you're still alive.
Food management in the Rockhouse is rigorous because there's not remotely enough of it for any food to ever hit the floor. Any food which is uneaten and won't go to the fridge becomes Toby the Dog's property because he's one of the last real Democrats who still works and believes and he fuckin' hates Clinton although he's not useful for killing rats. Anything he can't eat (i.e. not much except anything sweet, too spicy, etc) goes to one place in the house and there's never anything but paper or can rubbish anywhere else. All of that goes to only one place.
Therefore, there's only one place with any significant draw for rats and that's a bag of dog food. So every three or four years, a rat gets into the place, a common problem down here.
They do not reckon, however, on Yevette the Hunter / Seeker Rat Killer par Excellence. She set out a rat trap and within two days, THWACK, killed that rat bastard and sent him to beg for mercy from Jesus but that won't work because he loves everything ... but never any fucking rats.
Note: God made the rats, Jesus didn't do it.
Yevette uses that rat elephant gun and it smashes those evil little fuckers all to hell. I'm the lowly rat picker upper and I won't let her see the bodies even though there's some curiosity but it's like a car crash. Don't fuckin' look at it because (gasp) you might see it.
Yevette the Hunter / Seeker Rat Killer par Excellence said she thought she senses another one and always listen to a woman's rat intuition ... except (sob) when she's talking about you as they always will when they break up with you. It's not bad enough they kick your ass out of the world, they have to fuckin' tell you why, don't they ... for hours (larfs).
She laid out another trap and again within two days, THWACK, and another rat goes hopelessly to Jesus.
Glory. It was a beautiful thing although perhaps not so much in terms of his little smashed all to hell body. His rat mother (sob) probably doesn't think it's so beautiful ... but she will still probably eat his dead ass because a rat is far better at survival than you are.
She sensed one more and of course I listen.
Sure as hell, within two days, she nailed another one.
She said she thinks there is one more and that gave me the vision of an American invasion force in which it sends a battalion of rats for a single chunk of dog food so of course I believed her again.
Thus far, however, she has turned up zero rats and we already know her outstanding talents as Yevette the Hunter / Seeker Rat Killer par Excellence but nary another kill shot so far.
We want one because ...
because ...
we fuckin' love killing rats.
Make no mistake of the danger of rats as invasive rat species have been significant contributors to the reduction in species diversity in the planet as have feral cats introduced by humans and who wiped out an entire species of ground-nesting birds on one island among similar things on other islands without such destructive rodent / feline predators.
They have served as one of the most effective vectors of deadly disease (e.g. carrying fleas which carry bubonic plague) in human history possibly second only to mosquitos.
Therefore, smash their little bodies all to hell and no fuckin' way I'm picking it up until it stops moving. I don't care if they're just death jerks, I ain't fuckin' touching it.
Yevette has an astute rat-killin' sense as a long-time Texas safari hunter who never kills beautiful African wild animals or any in America either for that matter but she fuckin' hates rats. That sense led her to seek out the most killin' rat thwackers anywhere which always give a one-time kill shot. They also cleverly flip upside-down when they do it, thereby concealing the mangled rat body.
That leads to a clever segue to yet another festival of rodent killing and the weak of heart should probably (i.e. definitely) bail at this particular point in time.
Animal research labs for geneticists typically have a Mouse House and they have unbelievable numbers of experimental mice purchased specifically for genetics research and there are various reasons for that, all of which would probably bore the teeth out of your skull.
When an experiment runs to term, there is only one verdict for the mice: guilty. There is only one outcome: death.
Of course you ask how this happens so you roust all your graduate student research assistants and issue the directive, kill them bitches.
All gather around a metal table and, one mouse cage after the other, they grab the li'l mousies by their li'l tails, raise them up over the table and THWACK.
Naturally you ask, wtf happens to their dead li'l mousie bodies and perhaps you didn't already notice a bin of approximately three feet by three feet square and about four feet tall. Yep, chuck his still jerking li'l mousie body into the bin and grab another one. This is going to take quite a while.
Feast your eyes, if you will on the cumulative action of many, many li'l mousies in their final jerks of deadality and that's where an eleven-year-old towhead (i.e. me) entered the scene and saw that whole bin writhing with their li'l dead bodies. Yah, and thanks for that lifelong trauma, dear ol' Dad (larfs).
Hey, it's a parent's duty to instill lifelong trauma or what fuckin' good are you. I've written of the dead kangaroo previously but his sorry dead ass may be worth a rerun and (cough) thanks for that one as well, dear ol' Dad. He got a twofer on that one because he got my brother too. That old coot did some funny shit (larfs).
Make no mistake of the near-miraculous discoveries which have been made regarding genetic diseases and study of genomes and some of it may be too miraculous (e.g. enormously modified E. coli bacteria) but that's a subject which didn't elicit any particular controversy here which actually kind of surprised me. I must (sob) be losing my touch.
The result of their work has resulted in saving human lives and you have two options: deal with it and be a good doobie of a researcher to discover if there are better ways or go to Facebook and bitch pitifully about (sob) our brothers the viciously-murdered rodents. Nothing will happen but it at least affords the opportunity to pretend you're still alive.
10 comments:
Funny how one decides which animals it is ok to kill and which ones are fair game..
Mostly it's cute ones no-one is allowed to eat but any others people will readily accept, all the while bitching it's wrong (larfs).
Oh, you meant as in laboratory game (larfs). For me it's open and shut. If it costs a mouse's life to improve the lives of humans then that rodent should start saying its rodent prayers.
After mice with specific, possibly altered, genetics have been used for experiments, they can never be released or potentially they become biological death traps. It's probably not long and may have happened already that computer simulation of genomes is so good that type of experimentation is no longer necessary.
I meant in general. How about a Rhesus monkey in the lab?
Or any number of animals outside
No rhyme or reason, just personal taste i guess
It's getting questionable with me with higher life forms. I really do suspect maybe even strongly the genome research can probably be conducted entirely with computers now. That won't stop all lab uses of animals but it's one component which may well soon be eliminated.
In general, I will support experimentation on at least certain animals if there is a clear benefit to humans AND there is no alternative to live experimentation.
As to killin' rats, once they break the rules, pacifism goes out the window because it's self-defense. They potentially carry too many things to accept.
I don't think Gandhi buys that as violence is never acceptable but I can't go with live and let live with those rats. If you chuck them out, they will only get back inside. They're too smart for that.
Is that capital punishment
Likely not too capital for the rat (larfs)
https://www.aphis.usda.gov/publications/wildlife_damage/content/printable_version/fs_nutria10.pdf
Now THIS is a rat!! (Actually a Nutria common in cities of Florida). Also look for the giant RATS found in Florida Keys.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PsJc_VspsPQ
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ydgISInDYus
cute lil fellow!
Those things are insane! When I was kid in Sydney, they said there were rats as big as cats so maybe there really were.
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