This week so far

Not written for a while, wanted to keep away from politics, fear I will rant on and on, but what a week.

Some of you may be aware that I do not have the greatest relationship with my parents, my brother and sister both have similar relationships with them, i.e. there isn't one.
So Monday morning my brother gets a call from the school that there has been a problem with his 5 year old daughter. The short version of the story is that my mum and dad have turned up at the school and by all accounts were very likely trying to snatch her. This has resulted in them having to consider a restraining order on a couple of old aged pensioners. The school have had to place this poor young girl on red alert should they turn up at the school again. The head expressed her deep concern at the methods and approach used by my parents and explained that the police would be called should they be seen loitering around the grounds.

Last night at just after 9pm, I discovered we had no milk. So off I trotted to get a four pint. As I returned home and turned the corner I saw a man jump out of a car who appeared to be quite angry. (this is rather under describing how angry he in fact was acting). He was clutching a bag which was enormous, either that or he was a borrower. It was the sort of bag I used when delivering the trader when I was just a lad. Not trying to be over Gokyfied but it was in a canvas material too. A sort of oversized man bag.

He was ranting and swinging this bag at the car. It became obvious that he was unaware that canvas was not a good weapon to break a car window with. Unless of course it had bricks in it. The lady drove off, I put my head down and attempted entry to my front door, where I heard a yell,
“oi u facking want sum” (he was a southerner of some description). This was said while he appeared to be attempting to stand in a stance similar to Eminem rapping about how thin he is or a chimpanzee shitting. I was about to tell him that I didn't like free newspapers when I caught sight of his eyes. The hairs on my head would have stuck up, had there been any. Instead I felt the hair on my arse quiver and erectify. This man was obviously out of control and in a bad mood. Probably something like Gordon Brown after his meeting with Geraldine 'The Bigot' from Rochdale.
I decided on a calm lets get the fuck out of here approach. I was missing Heston's scary feast on the television. I therefore just told him I had been to the shop and it, whatever it was, was nothing to do with me. I closed the door and went straight to the phone to ring the police. My sixth sense had kicked in and I knew this Neanderthal was a danger to anyone who may pass by.
He then must have decided on two things. Firstly I was going to get a newspaper and secondly he was 'Hong Kong Phoeey'. He was obviously that drunk that he was unable to find our letterbox as he decided to run at the door and drop kick it.

The door is a UPVC thingy and the complete middle flew out, leaving us door-less. He then ran off in the style that runners in that much missed game, knock-a-door-run used to do.

The police arrived and the rest is sort of history. My first attempt at putting the door back together resulted in me putting it back together, back to front. So in the end I went to my mates house and asked Rich to do it. I did an excellent job of supervising the repair.

This morning I got up and went to the kitchen, where to my horror there was a mouse sitting on the floor, near the cooker. I tried to scare it by waving my hands around as though and aeroplane was wanting to taxi through my parlour. The mouse seemed to shrug its shoulders and remained in the same place. Bastard. I then approached him where he (or she) slipped under the cooker. I retreated back to the doorway and he popped back out and just sat there. I decided I needed to outsmart him so I got onto all fours and tried to sneak up on him like I saw the leopard doing in 'Survival, with Ray Mears' last week. I had my back hunched and I pushed my face forward and moved one arm three inches in seven minutes. It did seem to work because 28 minutes later I was only fifteen feet away. The little bastard then went back under the cooker and I had to shout Carol to help me get up because my knees had gone.

Then I remembered the mouse trap I have in the shed. Its one of the proper ones. The type that chops the fucker in half (you might notice by my language that I was in a bad mood). I loaded the trap with a little bit of bread, dosed in honey, I spring loaded the trap and set it in place. I was panicking that the phone might ring or anyone may fart. The trap was that sensitively set. I retreated to the doorway. Almost at once, BoJangles as I now call him, appeared. He approached the trap. Die you bastard, I whispered. This you may not believe but this is honestly what happened. He leant over and lifted the bread from the trap. Then disappeared. I was stunned. I decided to set it again and the air trigger was that sensitive I had trouble in placing the trap on the floor. Again he appeared and lifted the bread. I was double stunned. I carefully lent down to pick up the trap and as soon as my fingers made contact with the side 'WHACK' it snapped shut.

I will be working on a devious trap later tonight.