Dr. Strangelove - or - How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Family of Possums that Crawled in and Spent the Night in my Cupboards.

Last night was fun. Did I say I would be doing the educating. Hah! Such boastfulness. In actuality, I had probably the worst night of pool-playing ever had by someone over the age of twelve. Believe me, I was bad, bad, bad. Actually, A. was our standard-bearer (this is the way A. refers to people on A.'s blog, so I figure I should adopt some sort of 'alias' convention; why not, when discussing him, rip him off?). He held his own against a set of reasonably strong opponents, eventually losing out (giving up?) after J. purchased a pack of ciggies and was bugging him to smoke. Anyway, I say: well done, A.

Little did I know that after I left Lancer's, my night was only beginning. Because M. is unable to drink caffeine or boozahol, and because M. gave J. and A. rides to Lancers (this alias thing is getting annoying; ugh), I was stuck taking A., J., and E., back to La Jolla. No worries; it was a fun ride home, but I did get back rather late. When I got back to my apartment, my roommate was sittin gup watching Rosemary's Baby (which I always found sort of overrated). It was right at the end, but I was promised An American Werewolf in London right after RB ended. Sweeetness. That's a great movie. So I stay up to watch the first part, and get to bed pretty late.

So at around 3:30, I hear a hurried rapping on my bedroom door.

INT. DALE'S MESSY BEDROOM, NIGHT

DALE
Whhaaaa?

DALE'S ROOMMATE
Uhhh, sorry to bother you, dude, but there's something wierd happening in the kitchen.

DALE gets up and puts on pants, goes to kitchen.

There is a distinct SCRATCHING/KNAWING NOISE coming from CUPBOARD above STOVE.

DALE
Sounds like a racoon, or a possum, if you will.

Really, it was more like some sort of small rodent. I exaggerate. Anyway, the sumbitch was loud. It was tough to go back to sleep. We didn't quite know what to do, especially so late at night, so we just ended up taping the cupboard shut so that it would get out into the rest of the kitchen. We felt that it was welcome to our potato chips, so long as it didn't try to venture elsewhere. I hope this arrangement persists.

Anyway, screw you rodent. I'm tired today.