Monday, December 15, 2008
There are ants in my
I live in a trailer. Have I made that sufficiently clear? In Hawaii. A trailer - quite old. In Hawaii. (i.e. warm, low to ground, well-ventilated, not the most ship-shape). I have a bit of a pest problem. It's okay for the most part. The cockroaches and I have come to an understanding that if I don't see them, they don't exist. That's going well for us. The spiders are okay. They deal with the flies. Good. But the ants? They just came from nowhere - only to arrive somewhere in particular. In my pant...ies. They have invaded my underwear basket. The clean underwear basket. Not the dirty clothes basket. Or the bikinis/socks basket. Or even the fruit basket - where I have come to expect such things. Nope. They went straight for the underwear one. Theirs is a higher purpose. Apparently to make me act like a spaz.
Maybe I should start storing my underwear in the refrigerator. So far it's the only area that has managed to dodge the rampant pestilence of this place.
...brrr.
Having ants in one's panties adds a whole new color to the old phrase, don't you think? Perhaps it will see a revival.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I have all those plus: (Take it away Wiki!:) The House centipede, Scutigera coleoptrata, is a yellowish grey centipede with 15 pairs of legs. Originally endemic to the Mediterranean region, the species has spread to other parts of the world, where it usually lives in human homes. It is an insectivore; it kills and eats insects.
Looks like this bitch: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:House_centipede.jpg
yeah. Fuck you up. But not really. It runs SO SO SO fast. I've only killed one. Mostly I shutter and let them do their thing. Seeing as I have many spiders, flys, and what the fuck ever hides in little warm OLD OLD OLD apts.
Don't know why this popped into my head-
there's a place in France where the naked ladies dance - there's a hole in the wall where the boys can see it all - but the boys don't care cuz they have no underwear.
Dance Tara.
Dance!
Oh Miss. I thought of you tonight. I am so glad you are still herethereworldwide and doing that thing. Ants.
One hundred years and solitude and sweet things like that.
All my love from Steinbeck's shorelines in the shimmering city next to the bay where they have great cheese and golden gates.
I am re-reading Haroun and his whole sea of stories.
Te adoro.
Post a Comment