Saturday, April 24

Asking the Tough Questions...

WHY ARE THEY HERE?
WHERE DO THEY COME FROM?
WHAT IS THEIR PURPOSE?

Seriously, Mr. Wonderful, could you please make haste and come into my life already? Because I can't keep killing these things by myself. I can't take it. I can't take their bulbous bodies and creepy antennas. I can't keep freaking out every time I see one, running around my apartment on tip-toe, squealing like a little girl. I can't stand trapping them in the cleaning mug and disposing of their writhing bodies. I can't stand flushing the little devils down the toilet, every time scared out of my mind that somehow they have come to a point in their evolutionary process where they now have gills and are able to survive aquatic conditions, so naturally, the spawn of Satan will rendezvous with his buddies, regroup, and then return in the middle of the night to exact revenge on his would-be assassin.

I laugh about it only to keep from crying.

But I can't do it anymore. I just can't.

No comments:

Post a Comment