I love Texas. I love the rolling hills, the open praries, the bustling city, and the stinky ocean. Hell, I even love the sweltering summers. But if I could, I would move. "But why, Stewbie?" you may ask. Because. I HATE TREE ROACHES.
I have my house treated with insecticide every 4 months. Every 4 months, a company comes and treats the outside of my house, and then comes in and sprays the inside. I have no spiders, ants, earwigs, or any other little creepy-crawly thing. But i have the occasional tree roach. And there is not a damned thing anyone can do about it.
Last night, I retired early--about quarter-til 10. I had to do my rounds: take my pill, turn on the bathroom light, kiss my Jenna, kiss my Clairey. I went into my room, shut the bathroom door, and sat down to pee. I just happened to look up, and there, in the corner was the biggest fricking tree roach i had ever seen. Sweet baby Jesus. I almost passed out. Everyone was asleep, and I was all alone with the filthy thing. I swear to you, people, it was about 4 inches long. (I'm about to pass out just thinking about it. I need a chewable Valium necklace.) I didn't know what to do, so I picked up a pair of Jenna's jeans that were on the floor, and threw them at that bastard. I literally had tears in my eyes and I was about to go into cardiac arrest. When I hit that damn thing, it raced to the other side of the ceiling. I hit it again, and that fucker FLEW straight for my head. So there I was, in the bathroom, swinging around a pair of children's 6-slim jeans, screaming my head off, with a flying tree roach. I'm surprised the girls didn't walk into the bathroom this morning to find me knocked out with a roach on the ceiling. Whilst I was flailing about, I must have hit the thing and he fell to the floor. I laid him out. THEN, I had to pick him up with a wad of toilet paper and I could still feel his crusty body through the folds. Good Lord.
I didn't sleep well at all. I HATE TREE ROACHES. Dirty little fuckers. I'm cutting down every tree in my yard.
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About Me
- stewbie2
- My name is Stephanie, but you may call me "stewbie." I live in the thriving metropolis of Houston, Tx., and from my loins have sprung two beautiful baby girls--Jenna and Claire. I'm not mean, but I am horribly sarcastic. I consider it a gift. I work full-time as Social Media expert/Digital Marketing director, edit on the side, and am usually at the gym or the theatre--pick one. Although I have a BA and MLA in Literature, I still use serial commas and sometimes, I use the semicolon incorrectly. Oh, and I also have a hairless cat. His name is "Tito."
8 comments:
This is going to be incredibly controversial and probably unhealthy for me…but it must be said. I wasn’t asleep. I heard the initial gasp and the big whiff of the 6-slims. I thought…what the hell? I figured it out by the time the jeans reached optimum roach killing whirling speed. If I wouldn’t have thought I would suffer sure cerebral trauma coming through the door, I might have been more inclined to help. Instead I just laid there thinking…surely this will end soon. Hind sight is always 20/20 and I apologize for not rushing to your aid. Bwahahahahaha!!!
You will be punished.
smm!!!!! what????????????????????????????????????????
oyyyyyy!!!!!!
LOLOLOLOL!
My question: Did you get pee everywhere?!?!?
I know that might freak you out just as much!
Roaches are my biggest fear! When I was young, I would scream bloody murder and when my dad would run to my aid and see that it was just a roach, he'd pop me in the ass for screaming. It didnt teach me anything, I still scream. My skin was crawling just reading this...you are very very brave.
Nik
OMG! OMG! I was already screaming and laughing but then I saw smm's comment. I'm dying over here!
We don't get these nasty buggers in Dallas so much. Though, I remember being on a wine bar patio in Houston about two years ago and seeing them flying creepily around us during a coffee house performance. I turned to hubby... they won't land on us, will they? Oh no he assured me. As, at exactly that moment, one landed on me and crawled across my lap. Needless to say, the guitar playing ceased and the wine went a-flyin' as I screamed, leapt from my chair and did a freaky dance. Ick!
"I heard the initial gasp and the big whiff of the 6-slims."
OMG, I'm crying here! SMM is FUNNEEE!!!
But, dude... c'mon! You gotta be killin' the bugs! I mean... it's... your job.
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