A mice day
Posted: April 10th, 2009, 8:18 am
It’s Easter so I have to trim the mouse. Kids away at his mothers, and I’m set here alone. Well, we are. Me and the fucking mouse. Hate seeing him in there. Sniffing around like this was all there was to it. The occasional biting of the bars. Bet he fucking hates that town.
So after coming home from two pints in the miserable little bar, I went up to my room to have a reefer. Its only my second shot this week. And I heard him in the room next to mine. I walked across the hall and opened the door to the infested little room of the boy. I knew how it was, I’m just to damn lazy to look at it. I took some socks up from underneath the table, filled up a drawer. Turned off the computer and the runscape program. Seems he had evolved from a blacksmith to a young giant warrior with 6 wives and a horse farm.
And the mice was squeeking in its prison cell.
so I let him out. dropped him on earth.
I layed down on the floor. And the albino sniffed around the corners. I closed my eyes and listened to its little feets, ears flat out, coming closer, then dissapering, coming back, dissapering.
We have a little sprinkled owen wich is turned off. Its on the floor and it runs on electricity. I heard him in there and as I stood up I saw him, Rattata, that’s what he calls him, sniffing around inside it. And the room was rather cold at this time.
I don’t know.
Seems we never get out of town. We gonna have another gig here Saturday. They say the NRK is coming to film it, and some of it will be broadcasted coast to coast. And I believe them.
Not because of us, of course. But it so happens: the rock club of Moss is the oldest in Norway, and that is the occation of wich they will shoot. My name is Lasse. And I’m getting out of this town. Someday.
So after coming home from two pints in the miserable little bar, I went up to my room to have a reefer. Its only my second shot this week. And I heard him in the room next to mine. I walked across the hall and opened the door to the infested little room of the boy. I knew how it was, I’m just to damn lazy to look at it. I took some socks up from underneath the table, filled up a drawer. Turned off the computer and the runscape program. Seems he had evolved from a blacksmith to a young giant warrior with 6 wives and a horse farm.
And the mice was squeeking in its prison cell.
so I let him out. dropped him on earth.
I layed down on the floor. And the albino sniffed around the corners. I closed my eyes and listened to its little feets, ears flat out, coming closer, then dissapering, coming back, dissapering.
We have a little sprinkled owen wich is turned off. Its on the floor and it runs on electricity. I heard him in there and as I stood up I saw him, Rattata, that’s what he calls him, sniffing around inside it. And the room was rather cold at this time.
I don’t know.
Seems we never get out of town. We gonna have another gig here Saturday. They say the NRK is coming to film it, and some of it will be broadcasted coast to coast. And I believe them.
Not because of us, of course. But it so happens: the rock club of Moss is the oldest in Norway, and that is the occation of wich they will shoot. My name is Lasse. And I’m getting out of this town. Someday.