I have been trying to eradicate squirrels for four years. For now, my operation is just one man with a squirrel-catching net (essentially just a big, sturdier butterfly net), but I hope to expand things after I make my first catch.

It looks like these fuckers are trying to get to us by going after “man’s best friend” now. They’re too scared to fight a straight fight against us, much like the Extremists Formerly Known As Insurgents are going after police recruits and other innocents in an attempt to rattle our troops.

No one said that the fight would be easy. However, this dog incident is just the tip of the iceberg. There have been power outages, car failures, disease and an assortment of other general annoyances from these furry nervous-looking hoppity cocksuckers. I encourage everyone to read up on the issue from an objective, reputable news source:

http://www.deadsquirrel.com/

Join the fight. Don’t be pansies. The French have tried to tolerate and negotiate with them, but now you can’t spend an afternoon on The Avenue des Champs Elysées without one of the rabid little bitches crapping on your date’s head, and another one doing a suicide mission by cramming itself into you car’s crankshaft.

It was a cool autumn day and I was relaxing, peeing on a tree in my backyard. Out of nowhere they appeared, encircling me - humming some Nazi squirrel anthem. “DosPeros! Reep the whirlwind of your fun and games you K-9 bastard!” yelled their leader, who was wearing some type of Che Guevara head band.

They all looked at me with seething little red eyes and frothy littly rodent mouths. I swallowed my fear, these were squirrels for Godsake, hadn’t they heard of the frigg’in foodchain.

Luckily, 45-minutes earlier I’d eaten four super-delux Chulupas from Taxo Hell which had been brewing and simmering in my gut — producing a toxic ether of bad doggy wind like you can’t imagine.

When the first squirrel attacked, I errupted. When it was all done — the carnage of the scene still haunts me — all those little revolutionary squirrels were dead or unconscious — a thick haze of DosPeros Chem warfar filled the air.

Poor bastard squirrels…never knew what hit them.

My dad disparaged the neighbor’s Chihuahua because, as he said, he had no use for a dog that didn’t stand at least a 50/50 chance in a fight with a ground squirrel. I’ll have to let him know that he was right!