It's only just really sinking in.
I was obviously heavily in denial about Nibbles the mouse after hearing the news and it just hit me last night.
Nibbles didn’t hurt anyone. He liked walking the kids to school. And basically, some drunken dero fuck came and bit Nibbles to death, and I’m pretty cut up about it.
He was a friend to the children. Now little Nibbles is gone.
Auckland SPCA's chief executive Bob Kerridge says the woman is likely to be scarred for life by the incident, which happened on Friday morning in Devonport, on Auckland's North Shore.
The woman, whose name has not been released, was walking to her son's school with her pet mouse, Nibbles, nestled in her top.
Police say she was confronted by a group of drunk or drugged men, one of whom reached out, grabbed Nibbles and put him in his mouth, crushing him.
It is understood that the woman rushed her pet to an emergency vet, to no avail.
"I still can't believe someone would be so barbaric," she wrote on the TradeMe message boards on Friday afternoon. It has been one hell of a day and I think I need a glass of wine and a cuddle from my cat. If I have to go to court, I will. The b*****d should not be allowed to get away with this."
A lot of people think I’m just obsessed with money and sex but clearly, I also have weaknesses.
Sir Ed is apparently going to have a mountain renamed after him. So in loving memory, as a sign of respect I have decided to rename my penis "Nibbles".
So if I ask you if you feel like nibbles you're completely within your rights to call the police.
VALENTINE'S IS COMING UP!!!!
And my beautiful black beamer has got a frickin blown head gasket!!!!
It's gasket . . . Is BLOWN!!! And that's BAD!!
That means I have to walk around like a peasant. . . . A gasketless wretch without a gasket to my name. I am grounded for valentines!!!
The hopes of the silently anticipating young honeys that dot my life like acne on a greasy adolescents face are to be washed by the foaming cleanser of misfortune, unable to manage the logistics required for the deftly calculated romantic stalking behaviour for which I am well known.
I’ve decided to be more picky after recently being labelled a “root and toot” type of guy. What the fuck does that mean?
So for lack of options I will be marking St. Valentine's day by stalking my ex by sending her one of those innocuous cards where I have to pretend I totally do not want to get back together. At least her dad wont be able to turn the hose on me again.
It's for the best. I hate being the bad guy. I ain't no heartbreaker.
And I do not “toot”. I’ve never tooted in my life. If I even had a horn . . .
Well I’d be partying up with 80's black funk gods like this.
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