I’m sorry for the poor quality of this video but I only decided to film this about three seconds after I got the great idea to blast Sarah Brightman’s “I Lost My Heart To A Starship Trooper” out my window at the Orange Walk on Duke Street yesterday…
Ever since I had mice in my previous flat 2 years ago, I’ve been obsessed with reading about the little buggers. Although mice are no longer a problem for me, I do feel guilty from time to time about the 8 or so I killed and since I’m completely clued up on them these days, I even sort of admire mice. They ain’t stupid. That’s for sure.
Whilst reading some user submitted mouse stories on Reddit, I came across this one particular story that made me laugh myself silly whilst terrifying and horrifying me at the same time!
Obviously written by some sort of Commando psychopath who has had enough, here it is…
“ok, a bit of a long read but worth it. true story.
i used to live in an apartment in the hood and i had a miniature doberman pincher that would keep the mice at bay. after my dog passed away at 14/15 yrs old i took a summer long vacation to take my mind off of things.
when i came back i realized the first night how much the dog was doing to keep the mice away… as i had an infestation of mice. literally hundreds of mice (from the entire building) had sought refuge in my apartment.
being in the hood the slumlord landlord didnt give 2 fucks about it and told me to just lay out some traps.
the second night back i had mice running across my bed…across my chest and across my face as i tried to sleep. as they had got used to run of the entire place while i was gone.
i snapped and got out my air rifle. and sat up late at night perched on a stool in the corner of the room with my air rifle and would snipe the bastards till the sun came up.
i would go in the kitchen and sit on the stove and snipe the bastards as they went around the area where the dog food used to be at.
i learned the patterns that they would run (for example…behind the stove…to behind the dinning table… to behind the fridge… to a hole in the corner. they would run from cover to cover to avoid getting shot.
little fuckers where smart and learned the sound of a safety being “clicked” so i had to have my gun ready and just sit and wait with safety off and aimed at where i thought they were going to run. they learned the sound of bb’s rattling so they would hide if they heard that (so i adjusted and switched to pellets…arrowhead kind).
they learned that when the light was on in a room it meant i could be watching so they stop coming out before 1 am if the lights were on. (i adjusted and got nightvision googles from my uncle in the army)
the bigger mice (not rats, just big ass mice) would send out the little ones to do a “run” as i called it. basically they would run back and forth 3-4 times to draw any fire. if i didnt shoot, they assumed it was safe and then the big ones would come out. if i shot the “little ones” you wouldnt see the “big ones” for a couple of days.
after about 3-4 months of killing on average 15-20 mice a night, they finally got the message or finally all got killed off because i finally had my place rodent free. the first week i would kill about 30-40 a night.
TL/DR: slumlord landlord didnt give a shit about the mice infestation forcing me to go ‘full metal jacket’ on them and thus murdering hundreds of mice over a few months period.”
One of these days, whenever I manage to sit down and completely gather all of my thoughts, I’ll tell you all about my friend Mark Liengie. He was a talented feller and when we were kids we used to draw together. We had this weekly competition going on where we’d try to out-gross the other by drawing the most fucked up images our young minds could conjure up and comparing them at weekends. Unfortunately I don’t know what happened to any of these pictures.
My friend Mark was a genius. A real one.
Before he died he was just about to make his…mark on the special effects industry. I believe he had a hand in creating the dead baby scene in “Trainspotting” as well as making a full dead body for an episode of “Taggart“.
On one of the last occasions I saw Mark he was outside his parents’ house with two fake human torsos on poles that each had wires and cables and string running from them. “Watch this!” he said, and with the push of a button on a handmade controller, the torsos EXPLODED with an amazing bang and instantly, a large part of the garden was drenched in the buckets of fake blood he’d filled the dummys with! Amazing.
Growing up, we’d quite easily watch the likes of “Creepshow”, “Dawn of The Dead” and “An American Werewolf In London” over and over again. We’d pause the tape on special effects shots and quickly draw exactly what we saw so that we could discuss how the effect was achieved later. It was a real learning process for me and really improved my drawing skills but Mark took things a lot further than I ever could. He’d regularly turn up on my parents’ doorstep with animal hearts and parts he’d got from the butcher and we’d cut them open. We’d both draw them but Mark would then go away and build an exact model replica out of all kinds of materials!
It’s amazing to think that he was only 9 or ten years old then but like I said, I’ll tell you all about him and his work another day.
Yesterday, I found a documentary film on Youtube hosted by our childhood hero, Tom Savini. As kids, Mark and I would have killed our nearest and dearest to have seen something like this…
In THIS article, Herald columnist Catriona Stewart writes:
“For those shedding molten copper tears over their loss: name them.”
We don’t have to name them Catriona in the same way that we don’t have to know the names on every tombstone in the City’s Victorian graveyards or the names of the architects who designed each building.
BECAUSE IF THEY’RE LEFT WHERE THEY ARE WE CAN GO AND LOOK AT THEM WHENEVER WE FLAMING WELL PLEASE CAN’T WE!?
…But since you asked,
Rabbie Burns, Sir Walter Scott, James Watt, Robert Peel, Wullie Gladstone, Queen Victoria, Jimmy Oswald, Lord Clyde, Thomas Graham, Prince Albert, Tam Campbell, John Moore, some soldiers and those big Lions.
The six new shortlisted designs for the revamp of Glasgow’s George Square have been unveiled and I’m almost speechless at how terrible and charmless they all are. ALL of them.
Luckily, I’m not completely speechless and I’d just like to take this opportunity to say this:
George Square Is OUR Rectangle! Leave those Victorian statues EXACTLY where they are!
The moving of Glasgow’s many Victorian statues like gigantic chess pieces is nothing new and it’s not that I or the many other people who live close to the square are against change. As a matter of fact, everybody I’ve personally spoken to is all for a revitalisation of George Square but, and listen carefully, as a PUBLIC and VERY GREEN space!
The statues that surround George Square have been discreetly moved over the years more than once but c’mon! They look so settled where they stand today. And everybody knows it except for the people in charge who very shortly are about to completely ruin George Square as we have come to know it.
Let’s take a look at the six new shortlisted designs for the Square and as always, click on the images to enlarge them.
Design Six is apparently the current “most popular” design with Glaswegians. The best of a bad bunch I’d say.
I’m not very good expressing myself when I’m angry without using extreme profanities so here are some photos of how George Square has looked in the past…
Fireworks Night 2012:
…and here are two panoramic shots of how George Square currently looks today…
Don’t tell me what you think.
Write to Glasgow City Council and/or a decent Glasgow Newspaper you trust.
So not The Daily Record.
Keep right up to date with everything by visiting: Restore George Square.