Dane Cook and The Mouse Traps

No, thats not the name of a band.  Althought it sounds like a good one.  Dane Cook is actually the funniest man.  I know this because I am the universe’s veritable barometer of comedic entertainment.  Trust me, I’m funny.  Actually, I take that back, I’m hilarious.  Dane is a stand-up comic who has two cd/dvd’s out already, both comedic gold.  He also performed on Dave Attell’s Insomniac Theatre on Comedy Central the other day, which was part of a big nationwide tour.  I found myself laughing to the point of tears while watching it.  It was either that or maybe all the onions I was cutting.  One of the jokes I have heard him tell several times ends with a two word punchline: Lobster Bisque.  Try and figure that one out. 

And now for my mouse trap story:

I purchased some mouse traps the other day.  Woah, easy there, I don’t have active rats running around in my house playing badminton or anything.  As my neighbor states it, there are small mice/rats that she occasionally sees running around outside.  Nevermind the fact that I haven’t seen them, this is a little discerning.  Truth be told, this isn’t my problem, but they apparently are making a home in a spot close to my yard.  Clearly this was something I could handle, having been privy to mice and mice traps in days of yore at a certain Lakehouse in the Beverly Hills of Oklahoma, Grove.  At the hardware store there were a variety of traps.  Reluctant to try new-fangled plastic, electronic, silent, humane traps, I decided to go with what I knew.  Mice and rats beware, I have your number, and my wooden-metal-snap traps will be lathered in a peanut butter so delicious you will be unable to resist its better-than-death taste.

Eager to give it a go, I laid the traps the other night.  Never forget, when playing around with rat traps, don’t drink. Feel free to imagine something horrible happening, however it was only my two house guests that were imbibing, and when they got a hold of one of the traps I swiped it away like it was a set of keys.  Only a guy like me would prevent someone from drinking and mouse-trapping.  Ready to catch some mice, I set the traps in a couple of key places and hoped I would find some dead mice in the morning.

Entering my patio in the morning I witnessed a gruesome scene.  Very carefully I approached each trap, only to see it had been sprung but with no dead mice.  Evidently I’m dealing with some sort of hoity-toity Beverly Hills mice, that think they can just take peanut butter and spring traps at their whim.  Reeling from my first defeat, I think it’s time to bring out the big guns.