As I was writing this post, a huge cockroach rappelled down my window blinds. I immediately jumped up, shrieked “oh jeez” and pranced around my room on tip toe and yelled various sounds and things like, “How do I kill it?” I ran out of my room for some reason, and I assume I began looking for something that said “Insect Smashin’ Device.” Mainly I just wanted to get as far away from it as possible. I concluded after a few minutes of hiding that procrastination on this situation wasn’t an option. In only a matter of time, that cockroach would build a hut under my pillow and wait until 2:34 am and crawl into my open mouth and make babies in my cavities. I immediately geared up into ‘man-mode’, went back in my room, found an “Insect Smashin’ Device” (my sandal), approached the beastie, and using wicked backswing, smashed that mug deep into the crevices of the wall. It fell slowly to the floor, crippled. Death filled the room. Curiosity overwhelmed me. I turned over the agent of death to see the aftermath: a huge glob of cream of wheat insect innards lurked at the bottom. I let out an ‘eeP!’ and dropped the sandal and returned to prance mode.
I’m 21 years old, and no matter how much of a front I put on, I’m still a huge pansy.
Young man, you have the bravery of a hero- and breath as fresh as a summer ham!
That was so disgusting! I won’t be able to eat anything creamy for a few months now, you jerk! My mom once tried to kill a cockroach by slamming one of those huge hard-cover webster’s dictionaries on it, but it cracked in half, and the first half got up and ran away. You’re lucky.
when i was a teenager, i was awakened to the sound of a roach crawling down my wall (they’re noisy! i swear it!) i turned on my bedside lamp and the HUGE beastie was wiggling it’s footies at me… mocking me. so i grabbed a hightop and lept up onto the bed, swinging my shoe mightilly while screaming at the top of my lungs (it was 2AM – and yes, screaming helps). i’m not sure whether it was the incredibly loud *BANG* on our shared wall or the screaming, but my psycho father threw my bedroom door open, performed a tuck-and-roll across my floor and came up with a 9mm pointed at me. i made him check to see if the roach was dead. afterall, he had the hardware to take care of the bug problem.
That’s a cooler story than mine. I wish someone with a 9 could come over and take care of my bug problem.
Nicole, that’s what I call serious extermination. He should start a business dedicated to that. Run the idea by him, I want in!
hmmmm … i guess you can call me Nicole
although it’s not the most unusual name I’ve ever been called.
he used to think he could solve all his problems with weapons. i told you about the time chris came over to meet them and he decided it should be gun cleaning night. darn things were spread all over the living room. he’s older and wiser now. now he realizes that all his problems can be solved by money.
Hahahaha, had the wrong name on the brain. That’s funny cause I was talking to a Nicole while typing that. I even knew it was you cause of your email. That’s what work does, screws up my mind!
Sure Brad…sure…Greg, even if you never prove to be “bug master of the world” we will still appreciate the stories that evolve from your fear