The beast must die!

I am contemplating murder. But don't worry. No human will die tonight.

After walking my dog this evening, I put my truck in the back yard, as is my routine. Walking from the truck to the back door I heard two big splashes come from my pond. I knew it couldn't have been the koi, 'cause they're fatter and lazier than a couple of weed-smokin' hippies I knew in college. I swear I think I've seen smoke rising from under the lilly pads. Plus those fish would only jump out of that water if they spotted brownies hovering just above the surface.

So the wife and I walked over to take a closer look at the commotion, and sitting on the edge of the pond was the hugest bull frog I've ever seen up close. This thing was the size of a kitten. My wife's immediate reaction was both "Ewww, gross!" and "That's so cute!"

I agreed on the cute part...at first. I'm a dude. I can be a big kid. Frogs are cool.

That was about three hours ago. Three hours of non-stop chirping and croaking and ribbiting later, and I'm on the verge of committing frogicide.

That creature won't shut up. The frogs on Animal Planet don't do this. They're quieter. Thirty seconds of croaking and it's off to a commercial break.

This was supposed to be an early night for me - to bed and asleep by 11 p.m. I can't sleep though, 'cause even with my doors closed and windows shut tight and the TV turned up, I can still hear the frog opera.

Frogarotti had better hope I don't find him out there tonight, 'cause I hear frog legs taste like chicken.