Tommy's Warthog Problem

It's the same old story. I've been fighting warthogs like a son of a bitch lately.

Every time I turn around, there's a warthog rooting through the kitchen cabinets, looking for potato chips, or drinking out of the commode. I sat down on the couch the other day, and sat on something. I pulled the cushions out of the couch, and I will be damned if there wasn't a warthog underneath the cushions. I looked it it. It looked at me. "Get out of the couch!" I yelled, and I will admit to finding humor in seeing its legs grab for purchase as it attempted to run.

I don't know what to do with all these warthogs.

Things I've tried to get rid of these boogers:

1.) Mandatory betting on Dancing with the Stars. I was thinking their general dislike of game shows would cause them to leave. They hate that hour block of Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy almost as they hate the twice-weekly de-lousings. I figured the financial stake would simply be the icing on the cake. These warthogs don't have a damn cent. They NEVER throw in for the pizza. However, they've invested quite a bit of themselves on the show. I think they're rooting for Nancy Grace. They poke and stab me with their tusks, now, when I try to change the channel.

2.) Hitting them with a baseball bat. They do not like this. And before you feel sorry for them, I had to get 83 stitches the other day after enacting this strategy. I brought the bat. They went for the balls. That's all I'm saying.

3.) Taking a cheese grater to their warts. They do not like this. Stabbing. Biting. One of them shit on my pillow.

4.) Using a glass with a bit of molasses, and a funnel. It works like a charm for fruit gnats. Not so well with warthogs.

5.) Revoking Graham Cracker Privileges: Recently, I rediscovered the small joys that are Graham Crackers and Peanut Butter. I eat it, and I say "I'm gonna eat this Every Day Of MY LIFE!" And then, I usually forget to buy more graham crackers. Well, recently, my store ran them Buy One Get One free, and in a rare display of obsessive compulsive behavior on my part, I bought roughly 80 boxes. I enjoy them. The warthogs enjoy them. But, not as much as I thought. When I announced that Graham Cracker Privileges were Hereby Revoked, they reacted with indifference. I am actually waiting this one out, but we are on Day 11, and I don't see their resolve cracking.

6.) Shooting at them with a gun. They don't like it, and get stabby. Also, the neighbors and the Athens Police Department seem to have some manner of problem. This is why I consider myself a Libertarian. Don't push my beliefs on you, don't push them on me. Unless you have any better ideas on how to deal with a house filled with warthogs. None of the Police even acted like they could see the warthogs.

7.) Turning one against the other, using fake Facebook and Twitter accounts. Doesn't seem like many of them can read. However, I am friends with Christie Brinkley, now on Facebook. I figured her time with Billy Joel should eventually lead to some insight in dealing with my problem.

8.) Trying to scare them with zombies. May work with my friends Shyam and Eric, but they actually seemed to enjoy watching the Walking Dead. In fact, the first episode with that scene in the RV? Scared the shit out of me, but they all found that kind of funny.

9.) Farting Candy. Actually, we all thought this was pretty funny, and had a good laugh for a couple of hours.

10.) Spraying them with a spray bottle filled with bleach. Not a good idea. Stabby. Plus, I've ruined the couch, chair and carpet.

11.) Warthog traps. Like mousetraps. I need help setting this. I broke my left arm when it went off, when I was rooting around behind the refrigerator, you know, like you do.

12.) Dismantling the moonshine still. This was a mistake. They're simply buying from another source, and I'm now out of a stream of income. (They don't pay in money, but rather in these beautiful afghans. I don't know if they make them, or trade for them some other way. I've sold a couple on Ebay for 40 bucks. I've got a couple others I'm willing to trade. Perhaps in trade for knowledge of how to get rid of these bastards).