Griffin 5, Rats 3
The rats continue their headlong drive to extinction in my territory (Yes, it is my territory. I have marked it. Drives the dog nuts.)
It must be quite depressing to watch, as life flees body, your clan-mates enjoying the very snack that drew you to your death.
I know this goes on as the bait is always gone, even when I have been successful as reaper of rats.
I have also noted that those taken in my trap-o-doom appeared quite healthy at the moment of their demise, with long, thick tails, healthy pelts, and shiny, dead little eyes.
The scent of their fear and loathing grows with each corpse consigned to an early grave. It smells of victory.
My daughter's soccer matches:
Victory, though we don't keep score, of course. My daughter has very good eyes, and seems to know the ebb and flow of play very well, judging well when to attack the ball or fall back.
Two of her team-mates stand out. One for aggressive ball handling and dual foot skills, the other for a Zen-like state she appears to achieve naturally every time she gets possession of the ball, resulting in what I think must be the highest scores of the league.
Lots of fun writing done this weekend for the RPGs I play online at RPOL, but nothing that's going to earn me money or fame. This week I shall write much and rest little.
I have late-night OT scheduled this weekend, traffic control. I'm not a fan of whoring myself, but my recent loss of cellphone and wallet make prostituting my body a necessity.