Fucking Squirrels!

I don't care for squirrels. They can go right to hell.

It's fall right now, so the squirrels are hiding nuts in the ground for the winter. They do this move where they push a nut into the dirt with their foreheads, which is fine, it's very cute and woodland-creature-ish, but then they use their paws to pat the dirt and grass down over the nut they just buried, and I'm not okay with that. Squirrels have thumbs. That shit is just wrong. There's something eerily human-like about the way they smooth over their nut caches, carefully arranging the clumps of sod and weeds like a little kid burying her sister in the sand at the beach.

Leave air holes. Very important detail.

Squirrels aren't only creepy, they're stupid: gray squirrels forget where they hide their nuts after they smooth the dirt over with their creepy little child-hands. They'll just eat any old nut they dig up out of the hard, frozen ground in winter. They don't particularly mind if it wasn't their spindly digits that crammed it down in there.

And last night, a squirrel moved back into my bedroom ceiling. That fucking squirrel, or maybe a different fucking squirrel, skittered around between the second and third floors of my building for 8 months last year. It survived two poison visits by the exterminator and only moved out when we had a goddamn hurricane. Why is it back? How does it get in? What can be done to stop it?! It's maddening!

One of these nights I'm going to take my butchers knife and just start stabbing wildly into the drywall until I hit something soft and furry.

That is all.