23 April 2013

Post #81

I must start this tale with a confession.  My sister owns Dr. Scholl's clogs.  I begged her to reconsider, but no...she had to have them.  Last night she was out on our patio enjoying a lovely e-book wearing said clogs, when terror struck. I was inside when I heard what can only be described as a bluegrass, folk dance solo.  Turns out my sister was being attacked by a flying cockroach.  Got to love Arizona wildlife!

Go Megan go!!!

She ran inside (putting me in harms way, fucked up) and screamed "Raid!!!".  I promptly ran behind the couch like a little bitch and then slammed the door behind her.  The concert lasted another two minutes.  She got the fucker.

La Cucaracha, la Cucaracha, ya no puede caminar!!! 

Raid is sometimes not sufficient.  I instructed her to also douse it in Boric Acid, one can never be too certain that these shits are dead.  I also think it's an effective scare tactic for the other flying bugs of Satan...this could be you.  I mean they can survive a nuclear blast for fuck's sake.

Ten minutes later she was attacked by another, and I was privy to an encore performance. Thank you Dr. Scholl's, you made my night.

Exterminator on speed dial,

Katie E. Eshelman

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