Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The Ballad of Ryan and Bill...and Ted and Frank

I found out I had a new friend last week and usually that's the sort of thing that I love. I love new friends and new people...usually. But the problem is, Bill is a mouse. A New York City Mouse that decided to become a squatter in my apartment. Granted, he only tried to move about the apartment when I was not here or when I was asleep, as all polite house guests should. But I couldn't let Bill stay here. I mean, this is Manhattan for the love of God. Rent is so expensive I can barely afford to live here, much less afford to house Bill. So I made the decision that Bill had to leave. He was not a fan.
It took some coaxing and ultimately, it didn't end well for Bill. He found himself in a sticky situation (glue traps) and I had to remove him from my home. So that was the end of my uneasy friendship with Bill. But that was only the beginning of my friendship with Ted...and eventually Frank.
You need to understand that I don't live on Park Avenue, so mice can get in. I've since fixed the problem and performed a rodent exorcism of sorts but that's another tale entirely. But when I realized that Bill's friends were also trying to exercise their squatter's rights, I knew it had to come to an end.
I'm a lot like my father and I always have been. When I was an obnoxious teenager, I wasn't a fan of that fact because I was hell-bent on being my own person and not being a carbon copy of someone else (insert the obvious irony here about teenagers all dressing and acting exactly alike, all the while saying they are being an individual) but as I got older, I realized that we actually aren't carbon copies of each other, but that the similarities we share are actually pretty great. Well, this is one such instance where our similarities shine through.
See, my father has a problem with bees. By that, I mean that he becomes a problem for bees. His mission (which is always accepts) is to rid the backyard porch of the bees that are the size of small birds. You know when Luke Skywalker is flying into the Deathstar to make that final shot and he's so focused and so determined (and using the Force but that's neither here nor there) - that's my dad when it comes to these miniature Deathstar bees that plague the porch each year. And sad to say for Bill, Ted and Frank, I inherited that same drive. They had to go and I was going to use whatever Force I could to get it done. They didn't make it one more night and there's no need for me to go into how I destroyed them.
And so that's how I lost three friends and I am pleased to say that none of their friends have been allowed to visit. And through all of this, through all of the Kill Bill puns and unwelcome house guest jokes, the moral of the story was clear. NOT IN MY HOUSE B***H.

This concludes the Ballad of Ryan and Bill...and Ted and Frank

(This blog is so full of Star Wars references its unbelievable. Those references dedicated to Ryan and Bryce)

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