EMAIL HIM

His Philosophy

(The following poem is best recited in a thick, Pittsburgh accent of the Carnegie variety, and please hold all applause until the end.)

Bugs’re dumb.
I live in a slum.
My landlord’s a bum.
If he was a bug,
I’d spray Raid at him.
He might as well be a bug,
Because he never does nothin’
Because he’s dumb.

Seriously. (end of poem)

(Now put down your crappochino and clap unenthusiastically.)

Ever since I’ve moved south I’ve discovered all of these weird sorts of bugs that I’ve never seen before in my life. I assume they don’t thrive “up north” because of the colder climate. But I’ve discovered forms of beetles and roaches, mites and ants (of the “fire” variety) and just plain old weird bugs that I can’t really relate to anything I’ve ever seen before. There are these little orange ones that fall out of the tree onto my head when I’m trying to eat lunch on the UNC campus where I work. They are some odd sort of lady bug/caterpillar hybrid. Once I saw this cylindrical one with long legs that was the bastard child of a daddy long legs and a praying mantis. And of course you have to be wary of poisonous spiders like Black Widows and Brown Recluses, and mosquitoes that carry West Nile Virus.

In my house we recently had an infestation of some sort of mite, I think of the “ter” variety. One day they were all over the kitchen floor. So we sprayed Raid at ‘em. Then we had a party. It happened again right in the middle of the party. How embarrassing. We found the nest behind the dryer, and we performed a chemical holocaust on the multitudes of pesky organisms. And destroyed their nests. And found the reason they got in was because the exhaust tube (or whatever it’s called) for the dryer was duct taped to the wall and the duct tape lost it’s stickiness. See, not because we’re filthy.

You can catch a crappy buzz from inhaling too much Raid.

It’s no use calling my landlord. Once in the middle of winter during the coldest cold spell the heat decided not to work. It took three or four nights of constant bitching to the slumlord to get someone to come fix it. We obtained terrible colds and flues on which we had to work because I temp and am paid by the hour, and she wanted to save her off days to visit folks. The repairman fixed it, and broke the AC at the same time.

So come summertime we had to bitch for days to get the guy to come fix the AC. We’re a tough pair, me and the miss, but a fan, oscillating or no, just don’t get the job done in the south in the summertime. It gets hot and muggy down here, even in February. We are closer to the sun’s direct rays.

I saw a show on Discovery or PBS or somewhere about fire ants. They can be nasty em effers. Some people and cows were actually killed by them. They bite and leave little white pustules on you, which contain poison. The show had shots of people and cows covered in fire ant zits. How sick.

For a while, little black ants also invaded us in our kitchen. That was because we left the dishes to pile up a bit. Slap the cuffs on us. One of my favorite hobbies when we had our little 6-legged friends was to stand at the kitchen counter, finger pointed, and sing the Pink Panther Theme Song while murdering innocent ants who just wanted a bite to eat.

“Dead ant, dead ant, dead ant, dead ant, dead ant, dead ant, dead aaaaaaannnnnt,” I sang, murdering.

But I’m not worried I’ll drive these poor creatures to extinction. It’s interesting that the only animals that will survive a nuclear holocaust are dumb bugs. It’s also interesting that a spider barely the size of a quarter could cause a six-foot, 200-lb. man a world of pain. Ever think what a killer bee could do? (And I’m not talking about B. Brian Blair and Jumpin’ Jim Brunzel, although B. Brian had a “killer” flying clothesline) Killer bees could KILL you. And dumb bugs that can’t kill you are just holy pains in the arse. Once I went fishing with my brother-in-law, and we used bloodworms as bait and one of the damn things bit me. No, sir, it’s the dumb bugs that got the upper hand. And I may have won the battle with my mites and ants, but they, my friend, will ultimately win the war.

Did you ever see that old monster movie “Them”? Giant bugs attack the human race. And the sound they make! It’s like a bus with really bad breaks, “EEEEEEEEEEE.”

Actually, it’s more like the sound my telephone makes. It’s one of those cheap, flat telephones with the huge number buttons you can pick up at Wal-Mart. We got ours at a store called Rose’s, where I also got a $15 pair of no-brand jeans. The phone’s kinda Mothra sounding. The bus sound is more like Godzilla.

June 6, 2001