I Forgot To Put A Freaking Title On This Post.

Well hey there.  You’ve come to read my blog, thank you.  Did you know I’m having an amazing contest with prizes that don’t suck?  No?  Well, friend, click on the link and go check it out!

Also, while we’re at it, did you know you can Ask the Darcy?  I answer your burning questions about burritos, cereal, God, politics and lots of other things.

Now on to my thoughts for the day.  Ken the Hamster produced fruit flies and I don’t know how.  The common opinion is that they came from his food and hatched.  I came in one morning and there was one fruit fly driving me and Ken crazy.  It would fly in front of my face and make me feel like things were landing on me.  Then I wasn’t even sure if it was there anymore, and maybe I was just hallucinating things.  I was, but not because the fruit fly went away.  He went into Ken’s cage.  Ken didn’t seem to notice or care, but I noticed and cared on his behalf because to a tiny little hamster, a fruit fly is like a hawk.

That night I was so itchy and convinced fruit flies were swarming around me, I couldn’t even stand it.  I was whacking the air with a legal pad, trying to knock out fruit flies so they’d land on the floor unconscious, and then I could step on them.  I don’t think a fruit fly ever actually landed on me or Ken, but I was still very itchy just at the thought.  I left for the night hoping I would not come back in to find Ken covered in fruit flies the next day.

So yesterday I went in and there were about 6 fruit flies in Ken’s cage.  Ken still didn’t seem to notice, but I went ahead and got angry on his behalf.  I cleaned his cage thoroughly, threw out all his old food and got new food.  I was very pleased with myself and I was looking in at Ken when a fruit fly flew past me and landed in his cage.  I came up with the brilliant idea that I would put a piece of packing tape sticky side up on top of Ken’s cage, and I would put two hamster treats on it to lure the fruit flies who would then land on the tape and stick there.  I fully expected to come in to a piece of tape filled with dead fruit flies.

I came in and the tape was missing and one of the hamster treats was completely gone.  I think the fruit flies had a recon mission in the middle of the night and they all swooped and used the tape to take away the treat.  They are probably sitting in a corner of the office somewhere, living off that one treat and not sticking to the tape that was supposed to be their mass grave.

One time when Catharine and I lived in a basement apartment there was a mouse.  One little field mouse, and he was actually pretty cute.  It freaked me out so badly that I took my hamster (a different hamster than Ken) and my cat and I went home to my parents.  I rescued my cat from a mouse.  I rescued my rodent from another rodent.  What was I thinking?  I have no idea.  But I packed them up and took them to safety where a mouse the size of my finger couldn’t get them.

Sabrina killed a mouse once, but I’m pretty sure it was by accident.  My dad said she walked through the living room with something in her mouth, and then she set it down in front of him and it ran away.  She followed it, and played “I am a Hunter Kitty” for awhile, but she never like, tried to eat it.  Then one morning we came downstairs and there was a dead mouse in the doorway of the family room.  Sabrina seemed very sad that it wasn’t playing anymore.  She is not your typical cat.  She doesn’t kill things, she just finds them.  When there is a spider or a bug, she stares at it until I noticed and kill it (or get someone to kill it for me), but she never kills things herself, she’s no dummy.

There is a very cute dog at work who is terrified of Ken the Hamster.  I put Ken right down at doggy level (I was holding him, just in case) and the poor doggy backed up and hid behind her mom.  Speaking of dogs at work, I am about to post some new pictures and videos.

The jobs I would never want or be able to do in my life are:  waitress, carpet cleaner, road kill cleaner upper, bee keeper, food tester, hit man, proctologist and jack hammer operator.

I’m going to see a psychic this weekend.  He will tell me my future and then maybe I will stop being so nervous.  The future he SHOULD tell me is “stop wasting your money on psychics and pay your Lane Bryant bill, dumbass”.  If he’s a good psychic, that is what he will say.  And if he does end up saying that, I will run away quickly because that would just be creepy.