Stand Up Straight!
February 2, 2009Ants don’t scare me, but they do present to me a sort of odd predicament, a weird "fuck you, we are here."
Of course, you know, I can kill one like nobody’s business, and I don’t even feel a lick of remorse when I do it. It’s like stupid how I squeeze an ant and toss it to the floor, only to brush it’s dead corpse later on. Dare I say, I’m kind of "fucked up."
Anyway, the reason I bring it up is because I had a weird accident with the 6 legged mandibled insects. So it’s 7:15ish am at the Lau residence, and I’m on the toilet, and I look at my shower. One the base of the sliding doors, in the crease between the stainless steel doors was a sort of beige colored mass. I didn’t get close enough to identify it. It was a spider or just some gunk, I don’t really know. However, what I saw gave me some emotionless recoil. There was a swarm of ants harvesting it.
So I left it alone, and went to school. You know, ants taking something apart, nothing big. I was thinking about how I would deal peeing and pooping with my new neighbors, but when I got back the mass was gone, and the intruders were no where to be seen. Cool.
So the next day, I’m chilling in my dirty ass-room, and I see the ants on my computer desk. Pretty uncool of them to come in without knocking or even asking! I mean, what bitches these guys were. The funny thing is that I was a major dick to them, squishing their lives out of their bodies. I used at least 6 Kleenex tissues. It was not a pretty sight.
So I got my dad to spray some Febreeze Scented Raid on them, and it was pretty smooth sailings. I’ve to give props to my dad, because he is the family insect enemy. Basically, he kills bugs for us. The thing is, is that it brings me to my child hood, and even to the present. I don’t think I ever killed a big bug ever. I’ve always been afraid of it, because I want my first strike to kill, but my attempts have resulted in many failed murders. Not only that but I was always a bit creeped out to get it in my tissue, and crush it, hearing the crunch of it’s exoskeleton cracking, and the juice and innards pouring out. Typing this is getting me kind of weirded out. Goosebumps, seriously.
So it makes me question what kind of father I’ll be, if I ever will be a father. Will I be able to protect my children from the Daddy Long Legs? Can I beat up the cast of A Bug’s Life? Man, I won’t even sweat it.
