Your Weekly Antics, Rats, Bugs and Bear Spray Edition...7/11/25

I’m here to tell you that there is something in the water in the Woo. Not sure what exactly, but whatever it is, it's making the rats, and bugs and whatever other unsavory type critters we have hanging around to get bigger and bolder. I’ve just about had it folks, therefore it has come time that I may or may not have to take matters into my own hands. Here’s what I’ve got…

1. Minding my own business while doing the work of the people, I ran across this. This may look like a June bug or a beetle, or some other harmless insect, but I’ll tell you this…the photo does not do it justice, and I assure you that this son of a bitch was the size of a half dollar, at least. It had several eyes and at one point I was pretty sure that one of those eyes made direct eye contact with mine, staring directly into my soul. No, I’m not crazy. Maybe I was suffering from a bit of heat stroke no thanks to the high temps and humidity in some of our more hoarded places here in the Woo, but otherwise, I speak the truth. I did what all mature people do. I got back in my car, rolled up my windows and slowly drove away. I’m not meeting my untimely demise because of some stupid multi eyed radioactive bug.

2.  We talk a lot about rats here at The Antics, and it’s not for the lack of other material provided to me by the universe, and Angel, and Sue Miller, it’s because they, the rats I mean, are everywhere. They are more brazen and scheming than ever and could give two s***s about the likes of me, or you, or the next guy telling them to scram. They go about their business digging holes up against the foundation of some of my more favorite hoarded homes. They make themselves comfortable, bringing home their treasures and finds they picked up from the local take-out joints. They burrow and set up camp and welcome in all their friends. They scurry out from under the bushes at me and poke their rotten little noses out from behind cabinets and floorboards and anywhere else you can think of. In this week's rat- run -in, I suspected the elder I was tasked to visit wasn't home, but I had to give it a shot anyway. Off to banging on the door I went, with a clear view right through the door into this individuals' hoarded kitchen. In that kitchen there was a pile of who knows what, that left about a foot from the top of the pile to the ceiling. From the top of that pile stood a rat who engaged me in stare off, which I am more than happy to report he won, because I was out of there. My announcement is this…to all rat kind throughout the city and surrounding towns…you want to take over? By all means, go right ahead. I give up. Good luck and Godspeed.  

3. Declaring myself the first ever appointed rat expert of the Crisis Program at ESW, I thought perhaps for the hell of it I should google to see what the internet had to say about rat expertise, and how one would go about receiving a certification declaring such. All sorts of information came up, much of which indicated that a strong foundation in biology, zoology, ecology or another related field would be essential in obtaining such a title. A bachelor's degree is typically the starting point, with higher-level positions in research or universities often requiring a master's or PhD. Relevant coursework can include statistics, animal anatomy, physiology, and technical writing. Like most fields of study in higher education, one can be book smart and have all the fancy degrees but be lacking in real life experience. I may just offer up my services and work to establish an internship opportunity to such a student pursuing a degree in rat expertise that will include bringing student interns on a rat tour of the Woo. Let them see how these little bastards really live and how they have joined together to make it their life’s mission to terrorize the hell out of me.

4. Another option I considered was buying myself one of those Super Soaker Squirt guns that shoots 500 feet. Bring that on home visits with me and when piles of trash start to move, just open fire.  

5. We’re all known for something, and other than being known as the fool who gets stuck with all the cases that involve rats, I may or may not be known for the Irish Goodbye. The Irish Goodbye is more than a quick exit, it is a gift that also requires great skill, expertise and a level of timeliness and stealth that not all people possess. This skill cannot be learned, instead it is a gift; one that if appreciated and fine tuned by the possessor of said gift, long extended goodbyes can be avoided, uncomfortable and unnecessary formalities circumvented, and one’s valuable time saved. Research indicates that the average person attends 25 events per year, and at those events they spend on average 45 minutes saying goodbye. That equals just about 2 whole days per year of your life wasted saying goodbye trying to exit functions you were obligated to attend that you would have much preferred avoiding in the first place. Breaking this down a bit, I would have to agree with the research. Saying goodbye and trying to get out of someplace can be timely and drag on, because of course, I also have the gift of gab. Ask any of my family members and they’ll tell you that they much prefer the honed skill of my undercover exits than hanging around trying to extract me from a gathering. However, I’d like to know who is attending 25 parties and events per year, because that certainly isn’t me, and sounds exhausting. I am perfectly content to remain right here on my corner of the hood hanging out and talking to my buddy Lawn Mower Joe. Be like me and Deb and embrace your inner vapor. See the article here…

https://doublebaytoday.com/people-who-leave-parties-without-saying-goodbye-save-upto-2-days-per-year-report/#:~:text=New%20report%20shows%20people%20who,has%20become%20his%20standard%20practise.

6. That’s right people, we have begun a full moon, the Full Buck Moon in fact. According to astrologers and those who keep track of such things, the Full Buck Moon is the largest and brightest of the full moons so far this summer. Well, we’re going to have to take their word for it, because shocker, the rain and cloud cover is naturally keeping us from seeing so for ourselves. Maybe we should start calling these astrologers out on getting us all worked up and running outside at all hours of the day and night, in the dead of winter in the freezing cold; or in the heat and humidity of summer, taking our chances with woodland creatures, bugs and mosquitoes. The weather has not cooperated in who knows how long to see the regular full moons or any other of these so called once in a lifetime astrological events. So, until the sky-watchers can coordinate with their meteorologist buddies who have also been steering us wrong in their weather reports, perhaps they should keep their information to themselves.

7. The weather has also been doing the Big Dog wrong and putting a dent in his extra curriculars. He can’t be driven around town with the top of the jeep down if it’s hotter than hell or raining. When the weather does cooperate and offers up pristine conditions to cruise around town, Gibson expects to go on all errands near and far, dons his driving googles and off we go. Exhibit 2, The Big Dog is back.

8. When not out and about keeping Gibson entertained and doing the work of the people, I, like many of you, find myself on the phone whether for work or personal business. Sitting on hold this morning for the tenth time I was thinking that's a study that should be conducted, never mind studying the time saved by the Irish Goodbye. How about do research on how much time of our lives is wasted on hold listening to an automated voice telling us how dedicated the staff is of the office you're calling. Droning on and on about how my time is important to them. That they are concerned with my overall happiness and well-being. They too can suck it, because if they really cared about my well-being, they'd immediately connect me to a real person instead of wasting an additional 4 minutes of my time telling me which number to push to get to where I need to be. Get it together.

   
   
   
   

 9. It finally happened. I finally know someone personally who has purchased and hopefully will never have to use, Bear Spray, on their camping trip adventures far away in the wilderness. The only person I’ve ever met who purchased bear spray lived right here in our fine city, kept it on their person at all times, pulled it out at the Senior Center, and ended up locked up and in the clink. Not these girls, Exhibit 3, Haley and Casey. Working smarter not harder and playing it safe -  rowing away from where the bears can get them, while keeping their bear spray within reach.

10. What's a better way to spend a random Thursday night? At a Def Leppard Concert with your Dad. That’s where the youngest and middle Kap kids found themselves with Al last week - at Mohegun Sun where there was no evidence of rats, bugs or bear spray, just a few hours of what they reported was a phenomenal concert.

And last but not least, may you not waste too much of your precious time waiting on hold or in drawn out goodbyes - we don't have time for that.

Have a great weekend!