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Twitter! I have a story about dead mice! Hear ye and attend!
I like dead things. I don& #39;t know why. I just do. I& #39;ve had some amazing specimens over the years. I have jars of bones. It is what it is.
Mr.Jen tolerates this. He isn& #39;t thrilled about my enduring search to own a human bone, but whatever.
So, Mr.Jen was checking out the furnace because it& #39;s time to put the heat on. (This was like, two weeks ago or something).
So, Mr.Jen was checking out the furnace because it& #39;s time to put the heat on. (This was like, two weeks ago or something).
And because we have a Michigan basement, there were three dead mice in it. He thought to himself, "Ah, yes. Three dead, mummified mice. I will put these aside and give them to my horrifying love."
So, fast forward two weeks. I go down to check on the furnace because it& #39;s clunking.
There, beside the furnace, is a scene I cannot begin to explain to myself.
There, beside the furnace, is a scene I cannot begin to explain to myself.
Three mice, all dead, all facing the same way in a sort of loose triangle configuration.
I shit you not, I looked for tiny guns.
I& #39;m looking at these three dead mice, hearing MMMMWHATCHA SAAAAAY in my head, trying to figure out what the hell went down in my basement.
There was a paint stirrer with a staple in it nearby, but it would have been impossible for them to use. I& #39;m going at this from every angle, CSI: JENNY& #39;S BASEMENT.
Now, an adult human might have first thought to themselves, "Oh dear, is there a gas leak? Carbon monoxide?" first. I did not do this. No, no. My first instinct was, "three-way mouse stand-off, possibly with tiny guns."
I was picturing the scene from that Angeline Jolie movie where they could bend the trajectory of their bullets.
By the time I got to one of the things that could have potentially killed me, I was at the point where it wasn& #39;t worth it to worry about because I& #39;d already be dead.
By the time I got to one of the things that could have potentially killed me, I was at the point where it wasn& #39;t worth it to worry about because I& #39;d already be dead.
So, the next day, Mr.Jen comes home from work and I was like, "The weirdest god damn thing happened in our basement..." And he was like, "Ohhhh, I forgot to tell you..."
THE DISAPPOINTMENT. WAS OVERWHELMING.
THE DISAPPOINTMENT. WAS OVERWHELMING.
End mouse story.
