Pervert Mouse Ate My Comfy Red Underwear! (Emergency Post)
There is a mouse at my mum’s house who eats my clothes. I try to be forgiving and friendly to everyone, but I’ve had it up to HERE with this mouse eating my clothes. First it was my Saturday shirt and then my orange summer dress and now my comfy red undies.
It’s just NOT on.
The mouse has eaten a three-finger hole in my underwear (i.e. I can fit three fingers through the mouse-hole—four at a stretch). I don’t know what that is in metres or whatever. I would post a picture as proof, but I won’t post a picture of my undies on the web because I’m not THAT KIND of content creator (I mainly do normal videos, sick tracks, romance stories, number 6 [six] practice, et cetera). You just have to believe me because what happened to good old-fashioned trust? Once upon a time, literally every member of society wasn’t walking around with a HD camera in their pocket, ready to take a handsome selfie or film some poor guy having a meltdown at Coles. People just had to believe things that other people said.
Thanks to the maniac mouse at mum’s house, 2021 is off to a questionable start. Not only were my red undies so comfy but they were also great for a certain time of the month due to being the colour red (sorry if this is more info than is ideal, but it is kind of important because now I have to wear pastel undies at THE WORST time). I don’t care if you’re a man and hate to hear about that! It’s 2021 and the mouse ate my comfy red undies and feminism means that I can talk about it on the net and you just have to deal with it! You can read with your eyes closed if it’s that bad. If feminism is real then I could talk about my red undies/TTOTM without anyone calling me an IBS (internet b6tch-sl9t [no swearing on my blog, please]).
In a perfect world I could say to any man on the planet, “A mouse chewed a three-finger hole in my red underwear last week and now I have to wear pastel undies and it’s TTOTM and I hate the pads that have wings so it’s not ideal and I have above-averagely terrible cramps that I’m really good at complaining about. Ow, ow, ow, owwwwwww, owwwwwwwwwww, AHHHHHHHH I’M DYING. PLEASE HELP ME! AHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” And he would say, “That sucks. I wear red underwear too and I could imagine (via genuine empathy or even just sympathy would be fine) that if a mouse ate them I would be annoyed. I’m also sorry that you’re in what seems to be a childbirth-level degree of pain at the very least. Would you like a Panadol?” And then I would say, “Panadol doesn’t do jackity-squack, you clueless but well-meaning dIck-doofus! I need Nurofen Zavance ASAP (thanks though and sorry).” And then he would say, “I will go to Coles and get you Nurofen Zavance and also some KitKat Gold. It’s not because I’m a White Knight but I also just had to go to Coles anyway for Salt + Vin chips and I would just as readily buy Nurofen Zavance for a man who has terrible cramps.” And then I would say, “Thank you so much. You are a model citizen and deserve a Citizenship Award like the one I got in primary school and it’s been all downhill from there.” And then once the Nurofen Zavance kicks in we would just talk about fossicking and rock tumblers for a while and how there’s just so much quartz everywhere and it’s kind of cool but not that cool compared to blue lace agate or red (like my comfy undies) jasper.
Maybe talking about the hole in my underwear isn’t appropriate for my pigeon site, but first my Saturday shirt and then my summer dress and then this! The summer dress doesn’t matter so much because I have short hair at the moment (which I chopped off myself after a bad day) and I have this thing where I don’t think short hair and dresses go together. Everyone tells me it’s fine but I can’t wear that summer dress anyway until my hair grows. Sorry if you’re a short-haired woman who loves dresses (or even a short-haired man who loves dresses)—it’s actually fine and don’t worry about it. But even if I don’t want to wear the summer dress, I’ve had it up to my eyebrows (just as well my eyebrows didn’t get eaten off too, haha) with this dang mouse!
I’ve never seen this mouse monster in broad daylight but I think he’s quite big. It’s possible this mouse is a full-blown rat, but I don’t have evidence of that and I don’t want to say something about someone that I’ll regret. He’s big and scary and 100% evil though, like a rat. In the corner of my eye, he commits his knicker-licker critter crimes and then I have a hole in my red undies/Saturday shirt.
I haven’t told my mum about the incident because I don’t want her to feel bad. But, seriously, every time I visit my mum I lose half my wardrobe to this depraved rat-mouse. I wish we still had a cat to eat the mouse, but our cat died :(
Thanks for reading!