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The clash of the titans
2002-07-15-9:38 p.m.
Second entry of the day. Yep. I just had an encounter with a roach. In my house. *shivers a bit*. I saw him on the counter as I went to make myself a peanut butter and honey sandwich, as I often do. (Make the sandwich, not see the roach that is.) So I grab, like, a massive wad of paper towels and go for him. I don't want to slam down on him, because like many other things that we enjoy in this fine state, this roach was Texas Sized. It was never a question of "Will he get the roach?" It was more of a question of "How angry will he be when he finally does catch the disgusting little bastard?" I'm thinking to myself: "What is your freakin' problem? Do you not know that I will kill you? That you are as good as dead?" I think to myself in reply: "No, he does not know, he is only a stupid freakish little bit of evil, he has no idea." So I catch him in the corner, trying to hide behind a curtain. I sorta smash him, and it leaves a smear, but he keeps moving, only sorta like a crab because I've destroyed a few of his creepy little legs, and those antannae on his head aren't doing so hot either. The next time, I decide to quit fooling around, and I slam the paper towel down and grind his little exoskeleton into the corner. I pinch him up and turn the paper towel over and watch as his two last little legs flail around feebly, his head turned crooked and one eye all fucked up. I say to him, and I literally say this out loud (good thing no one else is home) "I take great pleasure in your death, you nasty little bastard" or something to that effect. Then I crushed him one more time for good measure, and wrapped him up in the paper towel and threw it in the trash. I mean honestly, what kind of evil freakish creature has it's skeleton on the outside of it's body? And it can live without it's HEAD until it starves to death in a week or so! Fuck all that. The way I figure it, it's them or us. I take great pleasure in their death.
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