2 more good reasons to retire...

...and I'll explain them later, but I've still got one trap out tonight (11:25P, CDT). Not to be a drama queen, but in case I show up missing or with a massive head-wound, please take note that there are a horde (5 males, 1 female) of crackers from DeRidder, LA, here working on either the new bridge or the expansion of U.S. 61, who are definitely fucked in the head.

Long story, but it's the first time that I've ever heard anybody (much less an ITINERANT RENTER) say the words, "Get the fuck away from here, we don't want no CAT LOVERS around here!"

I shit y'all not. This ain't no Halloween prank, my pranks are a helluva lot more creative than this, when I have the ways & means to pull them. Just ask the mormon missionaries.

Teh crackerz is breedin' worse than cockaroaches. And they haven't just invaded to colonize from B.R., they're coming in from all fucking directions. Who the fuck threatens a fucking ANIMAL-CONTROL VOLUNTEER?!?!?!?! AFTER making "jokes" about throwing kittens INTO THE FUCKING BONFIRE, like that's TOTALLY FUCKING "NORMAL." I was horrified when I saw a travelogue about the Australian Outback, where this one place way out in the SW boonies had a "cat tree," where the locals hung feral cats up to use as PINATAS (I shit y'all not, it was on PBS), but I'm damned sick and fucking tired of fucking ignorant-ass rednecks thinking that cruelty to animals is FUNNY!!!

Fucktarded redneck knuckle-dragging, cousin-fucking, mouth-breathing, beady-eyed, hairy-fisted, cheap-beer-swiggin' CRACKERS!!!!!!!

Anyway, back out to check that trap again. Way the fuck away from THEM. Well, most of 'em were human, but that one guy, he was a total fucking mental case. If I could run a criminal background check on him, he'd probably have a date-rape case in his past, he definitely had that "wimmenfolks ought not to speak up" face. And they were all driving leased GMC Sierras (white straight-beds, short wheel-base) with some swervy-road company logo on 'em. Sitting around a bonfire in the yard of the two rent-houses (well, one house & one shack) behind the Post Office.

Just sayin'. And yes, I still have my blade and my Mag-Lite. Fear not. I'm just saying, in case anything weird happens to me or the truck, y'all know where I went.

Drama-queen moment over, we now return you to your regularly-scheduled programming.

1:11A UPDATE: Welp, retrieved the trap, no bunny-cat, no high-powered rifles from the aforementioned crackers. Very, very weird night. SO fucking sick of this hick-ass town, wanna go back to the city, where the crackers are confined to the suburbs and rip-off bars on Bourbon.