I feel completely comfortable stating the following because:
a) We supposedly have an exterminator visiting today (as if anything else my landlord has ever promised has come true)
and
b) As of September 27th, I will no longer reside in my current abode.
So, with that said,
There is a corpse currently smashed and shriveling up on my kitchen floor.
For the past few weeks, an infestation of waterbugs has taken to hiding under pots, pans, old mac & cheese boxes (don’t judge me) in my kitchen. What is a waterbug?
It is me pretending that we don't have cockroaches.
Whatever, they’re not that big. But when I turn on the kitchen light at night, they all come out of hiding and welcome me back to the apartment. They carry torches. So my (completely logical) mode of attack? Play a sweet game of smash-the-bugs. Because now that Coney Island’s Astroland is closed for good, it’s up to me for my own creepy entertainment. And since we can’t technically host a freak show in our living room, pounding bugs with a shoe or napkin (or any other unfortunate surface I use during mid-high pitched karate chop noises) seems like the next best thing.
Last night was my moment of glory. This giant (guys, it was AT LEAST a centimeter long, i swear) bug comes galloping, complete with saddle and bit, out of the trash can towards my feet. I think it was an attempt at a coup d’état- I could see his braveheart-esque face paint and hear his Scottish battle cry. Anywho, I did what any freedom loving American would do (I take my cues from Sarah Palin now) and stomped on the miniature terrorist. Was it wrong? Of course not.
And then I left him there. PAY YOUR RESPECTS, BUGS! I hope they form a line to look at the body, and then all decide in unison that leaving is the right thing to do. Because it is. At least until September 28th.
1 Comment
September 21, 2008 at 2:10 am
fuck that bug shit.