Just Trying to Get a Nut?

Awwww. Isn't that cute? Look at those big beautiful eyes, that bushy tail? See how he is just sitting there, waiting for me to take his picture, resting on the tree trunk. How can you not love him? He looks like he could talk to you in an adorable squeaky voice, like Barry White sucking on a helium balloon. I don't know what he would say to me, but I know what I want to say to him.

Eat hot death, you furry gray little motherfucker! I fucking hate you and your constant nut collecting. You wake me up every goddamn morning, skittering around in the gutter on the wall behind my headboard. If I could electrify every little acorn in that gutter, I would, you backyard asswipe. Did I mention that not only do you wake me up, but you also wake up my daughter, since her bed is against the same wall? And you disturb the cats too. They stare up at that wall like we are living "Poltergeist." It's creepy, two black cats staring at a wall with nothing on it. You wake up to that shit.

It's not just the mornings either, you little forest prick. You are constantly scurrying around, getting your bubonic plague germy feet all over my lounge chairs and fancy porch furniture. I don't care if it did come from Target, I don't want your ass sitting on it. You and your little friends, the nervous chipmunks, are always on my porch. You use it more than my family does. Sitting out there, acorns in mouth, staring in the windows.

That's what bothers me the most about you, you backyard pimp coat rat. Your continuous peeping in my windows. You are driving the cats crazy, the way you climb right up on the window ledge by the kitchen, you on one side of the glass, the cats on the other. You know how much they want to eat you. Your staring annoys us as much as the cats. We can't enjoy a meal without you looking at us with your glassy street urchin eyes. It's not like you even like paninis! Those are some big nuts you have there, squirrel.

I am onto you, you oak killer. You are trying to figure out how to get us out of the big house so you can move in your nuts and your squirrel babies and have your chipmunk friends over for wild swinging parties. I even caught one of your homies trying to jimmie open my sky light. It sounded like he had a tiny little jackhammer on it, the way he was going at it. You are fucking up my sleep, my gutters, and my roof. My nerves are shot.

You think you are so smart, don't you? You know I can't poison you and your rogue band of rodents. What if a neighbor's pet ate your toxic ass and died? The last thing I need is an appearance on "Judge Judy" over some rich dude's Himalayan that croaked after sneaking out and eating some strange.

But I have news for you, you nut loving fur pie. I killed one of your buddies the other day leaving the neighborhood. Yeah, that's right. I hit him with my big ass Volvo SUV. I thought for sure he was smart enough to run across the road, but he had his mouth full of acorn, and you know how you squirrels get about your nuts. Plus, everyone knows you aren't smart enough to cross the road, which is why every suburban neighborhood looks like the killing fields. I slowed down, but he still became a speed bump. And I didn't cry either. So take that, you nut cruncher. Your stupid ass might be next. Unless you stay out of my gutters, and stop peeping at me with those eyes, in which case I will learn to live with you, a harmonious balance of nature and civilization.

But I still hate you.