The Squirrels are after me, man!

This happened way back at Andrew and I's first apartment. It was a peice of crap to most, but to us, it was OUR peice of crap. It was a one-bedroom place in the basement, with only a 30 year old worn out carpet covering the concrete. We couldn't afford a big electricity bill so we just put heat in the bathroom. Cause really, who wants to shiver while they're taking a piddle? We had a little heater in the living room that we huddled around. In our bedroom, we had about six blankets on the bed and by our first Christmas we invested in an electric blanket.

Point: Basement = Junk.

Anyways, our upstairs neighbour was an old lady who always went out on her balcony above our living room windows in a gross nightgown.

Imagine her like this, but with a grosser, dirty
 nightgown. She's also more hagard looking. And
probably didn't bathe.

But that was nothing.

She used to COVER the balcony in peanuts so the squirrels would come and eat them. Then, when the squirrels ate every single last one of those peanuts, Old Lady Nutter would come out in her nightgown with a broom and sweep the peanut shells off her deck onto the ground in front of our window, where the pigeons would chill all day.

The front of our window was the water cooler of the city wildlife.

To make it worse, any time Nutter would sweep away the shells, the broom would hit the metal guardrail, making a CLANG, CLANG, CLANG. This happened as often at 5am as it did at 11pm. So pretty much all the time. She was basically our clock for innapropriate hours to sweep.

Because of Nutter, the squirrels learned that humans were walking cafeterias. We were simply there to feed them. Or they would find us. And kill us.

So one morning, I'm running late for work. As I'm getting ready, I spot THIS in the window.

This is an actual picture from our apartment.

THIS was staring at me with big eyes. And it was freaking me the fuck out. I threw stuff at the window. Nothing. I banged at the window. Nothing. It just kept staring at me unflinchingly. Now look at the picture more closely. Look at the left hand. THIS SQUIRREL IS GIVING ME THE MIDDLE FINGER!

It looked at me like it was saying "GIVEMEFUCKINGPEANUTSORI'LLSTRANGLEYOUWITHMYTINYHANDS!"

After being sufficiently terrified and late, I got in the car. Everything was going good for the first while, until I attempted to stop. The car didn't even slow down. My breaks were completely shot. Or, should I say CUT?!?!

I immediately called Andrew.

Me: ANDREW THE SQUIRRELS CUT MY BREAK LINES!

Andrew: What?

Me: THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME CAUSE I DIDN'T HAVE PEANUTS!

Andrew: Oh God, what are you on?

Me: I CAN'T STOP MY CAR.

Andrew: Use your emergency break.

So I did. And I didn't die. (obviously, or I wouldn't be writing this post... Or would I?...)

We moved out a month later. Coincidence? Hell no.

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P.S. I think the squirrels still haven't given up. They're way too determined. It's one of the reasons why I now live in the country, home of the red squirrels and chipmunks.

I WUV YOU

I'LLGETYOUONEDAY,MOTHAFOCKA!