of mice and women (1) going french

Dear Mice That Have Taken Over My Apartment: Okay guys, you win. I'm waving the white flag, one with a smug-looking mouse on it because, clearly, you fine gentlemen are the superior species. I fought you and nail at first, but it soon became obvious that I was no for you guys. I found myself outnumbered, outsmarted and desperate. I had my ass to me so many times that I eventually in the towel and admitted defeat.

Next I tried to work with you, hoping that I might you over and make you see the error of your ways, but predictably, that , too. You it very clear to me that you wouldn't give me the time of . For a while I tried ignoring the pitter-patter of your annoying-as-hell little mouse feet in my walls at 3am when I was trying to sleep, until I had a one night, thought that's it, I can't take this anymore and vowed to up the fight.

Then there was the time I came home from work one day to find you all having an orgy on my love seat. I found it disgusting, amusing, and somewhat ironic that you were all getting and I wasn’t. As soon as I walked in, the three of you scattered back to your hole in the kitchen as if to say “Run! The is up! She's to us.” I was too stunned to even move to stop you.

I also a blind eye when you into my pantry. Remember? Not only did you eat the chocolate bar that I was for a special occasion, some of you one better by dying in there. I gotta it to you, I did not see that one coming.