Roofing Tales Of Madness...

[Wally J. Corpse]

Greetings, Legion Of Fan-

Herein, to follow, is another excerpt for your erp… This one is entitled "Scurry"

There I Was, one daylit day, circa 1980, happily splashing away with mine hot tar mop, installed an old legend- ( "Split Sheet", wherein the 3ft. wide roll had a longitudinal delineation between surfacing of granule exposure and underlying selvage edge ply- to wit: once the rolls were set,'twas easy to two ply in hot large areas of squareage…)
Anyways, this particularly peculiar building was owned by the founder of the company, the Auschwitz escapee survivor. He had used his business acumen, funding, to acquire ownership of some industrial type properties in the burgeoning Mission District, like 17th. St. Harrison/Bryant area...
This site housed an automotive repair facility in the front, and lockered storage zones to the rear..
AS usual, we had used the WJC methods of effiency to finish the 79 squares of quality application ahead of time, and applied for immediate full recompense,
Boss says day not over yet for youse guys !
We were then conscripted to do some step and fetchit/carry items fromst one of his own storage stalls...he had casually mentioned that there might be a mouse or so within, and following his already suspect logic, he gave my co-worker, (Hack) a rather befitting rodent control instrument, a machete. Eye was awarded supervision of a patch mop handle, basically a blunt stick-what's up with that?
So then, whence the door was opened, indeed mice parting within noticed, and began to flee attempt, and scurry away..
Hack wielded his topo gigio sword with sweeping dismembering strokes, sparks a' flying offa the concrete floor.
I was able to squarsh a few of the dumber ones, and by the time the echoes of combat subsided, Hack and eye agreed that it was past time to exit..
The boss therein successfully diluted our exit strategy with a case of cold Miller Hi-Lifes.

It just goes to show ya' - sometimes the awe and majesty of nature is misunderstood/manipulated by man for profit or power, and survival is almost AS important AS amusement...

AS ever,
Your ol' pal,
Wally J. Corpse

[sammy the blade]

Hope the Hi-Lifes were cold and in bottles, my drug of choice!

[jim d,]

I too have used mouse pursuit to entertain myself. For reasons inconceivable to me, my otherwise logical wife is terrorized when one or more mouse finds its way into our house. When that happens, I go on safari, a mouse safari using traditional mousetraps. Typically, the mouse / mice win round one. The sight of the unsprung traps minus the bait actually inspires me. I rebait the traps and set the mechanism so light that merely looking at them hard will cause them to snap. Round two goes to me and the safari is over. Apparently I'm easily entertained.

Jim

[john]

I don’t know what I like more the snap of a stiletto or the snap of a mouse/rat trap.

[Wally J. Corpse]

Greetings, Mr. jim d -

At one time in space, eye too was beset by an unauthorized invasion of rodentii in the garage...AS you obviously observed, the mice tend to avoid the traditional mousetrap, likely some ancestral hereditary trait since a clever rascal, William C. Hooker, invented same in 1894..
First round of ignored bait/traps awarded me with popular votes tallied in droppings.
AHA ! says I- a battle of wits izzit?
I casually placed un-set traps about, with a wee dab of a durable bait, industrial strength peanut butter- (no way I was giving up my state mandated Cheez-Whiz in a can),
They were likely delighted, and even sat on their future demise zone elated!
Imagine their surprise to be trapped and probably die..

AS ever,
Your 'ol pal,
Wally J. Corpse

[sammy the blade]

Where dat Wally be?

[whippersnapper]

I'm sure he is grounding his nads hoping to grow a couple inches.

[sammy the blade]

Hope he's not grounding them in rose bushes, that would really be a Tale Of Madness, but a good read!

[sammy the blade]

Wally, where you at? Hope the poe poe ain't got ya!!!

[jerryk25]

My Sister, has a swimming pool with a cabana pump house.
The dark tar paper roof without inside insulation keeps the pump house warm.
Chipmonks will spend the winters inside the 6 foot x 10 foot shed.
Chipmonks, collect tree seeds =, (helicopters. . .) and stuff the corners.
There is an unused Diving board bench seat, with two car tires holding up one end.
The empty rubber tires are just packed with helicopters and hulls of acorns and a few walnuts.
in the spring, we sweep out the cabana and get two 5 gallon buckets of seeds and hulls.

[whippersnapper]

I went to put on my winter Bunny/Mickey Mouse hunting boots this morning (stored in the garage) and had to dump out about a bushel of corn...(slight exaggeration).

Time to set out the traps.

[natcherly]

More Seed Stories:
.
We collected several large pine cones and used them as decorations....until we found out that ground squirrels had somehow made their way into the house and stripped the cones of any seeds. We got rid of the cones, but occasional evidence indicated the squirrels would visit randomly. It took us some years to discover how they got in, but one of the cats chased one of them who then disappeared under some built-in cabinets. We fixed that problem and no more squirrels.

[Bonzo]

Mr. Corpse,

Reminds me of once upon a time when my cousin and I were cleaning out a drained swimming pool. As I was raking up leaves, a chubby mouse jumped out at me. My first instinct was to put my hiking boots to work, and left a full body Vibram sole impression on him, just as my cousin was bending over to scoop up some leaves, the rodents innards squirted directly in his face. He finally calmed down later that night after several Coors and some of the Emerald Triangle herb...

Best regards,

Bonz

[Wally J. Corpse]

Greetings, Mr. Doofus Emeritus-

What I reminded you of reminds me of this remains remind-
There I Was, at the towne dump, when I found a somewhat useable 7 iron golf club. The proprietor, (a rather sub-par fellow), was an avid linksman, and gave me form pointers for stance, swing, and follow through. Soon thereafter, I spotted a distracted rat, and with my new skills, he coached me- I terminated it, however, on mine backswing, some shards of rat entrails flew off club onto his corrective lense glasses and cheek...he was pissed...
Later, I bought my way back in with a bag of old Playboy magazines eye found...

AS Ever,
Your ol' pal,
Wally J. Corpse

P.S.- many cans and bongs are a fair price to pay for the surprise rodent guts projectile splat onto cousin face...

[sammy the blade]

Playboys would get my forgiveness but I would hope there is someone with a cell phone to get some pictures. I like a good laugh even if it's at my expense.