On Overcoming Fear (and bugs!)
I wrote this post a month ago and then something shit happened. I didn't finish it because it seemed so trivial when someone I loved was hurting and so I wrote this emo post instead. But a month has passed and I thought it was time to finish what I started that dark, gloomy night...
Frozen.
Heart starts thumping.
Blood pressure rises.
Skin crawls.
Breath quickens.
Nerve endings tingle with a singular, frantic, message...
"Get the hell out of here. NOW!".
Up until last week, this is the scenario that would occur in the split second that my eyes spied one. You see, I have a sixth sense. I don't even need to hear or see to know that one (or more!) is there.
I just know.
Those foul, filthy, creatures of the night. Spreading their disgusting droppings and disease with reckless abandon. They taunt me. They seek me out. Their soul mission in life is to make mine a misery.
And up until last week they have been winning the war. But no more.
Today, people.
Today, the War on Terrorism really begins.
In my experience, the only emotion greater than fear is anger.
And angry is what I am.
So angry that now, at the sight of these wretched creatures, instead of the heart-stopping fear that used to course though my body, my mind is filled with the thoughts of a thousand gangsters.
Every movie bad-guy I've ever seen invades the space between my ears, and if they could hear me talking they would shrivel and die from the expletives, such is my anger.
My rage is hotter than a thousand suns. More explosive than a million A-Bombs.
Fuelled by a trillion F-bombs.
Tonight the tyranny ends. Tonight the war begins.
For now my fear has gone. Replaced by anger. Seething, hot, raging anger.
It's time to unleash the beast. My inner gangsta.
Those filthy fuckers won't know what hit em! Those assholes, they'll be smacked-down, taken out, pumped full of lead*, put to sleep.
Their beds will be made for them. They will be taken to the cleaners. I will fashion concrete booties so heavy that they will never see the light of day again. And when they return to their bed, mini horses heads there will be.
The time for fear is over.
Tonight, the cockroaches will DIE!!!
This is not the first time I have written about my absolute hatred for these filthy little fuckers. In fact I probably need to create a tag for them but I won't give the bastards the satisfaction! I am convinced that they are out to get me and I plan to get them before they get me! Do you have a fear/hatred/loathing of cockroaches or is some other insect/vermin/fucknut your nemesis?
*Of course I'm not actually going to shoot them with a gun, but I will spray them with as much spray as it takes, usually until they are snow white and I'm in danger of asphyxiating myself on the fumes. Either that or I will bash the shit out of them with a shoe.
Linking this up for the Laugh Link, which is being hosted by Melbourne Mum this week.
Frozen.
Heart starts thumping.
Blood pressure rises.
Skin crawls.
Breath quickens.
Nerve endings tingle with a singular, frantic, message...
"Get the hell out of here. NOW!".
Up until last week, this is the scenario that would occur in the split second that my eyes spied one. You see, I have a sixth sense. I don't even need to hear or see to know that one (or more!) is there.
I just know.
 |
| This woman hates cockroaches as much as I do, and she drew this and other awesome pictures. You should check out her blog. Seriously. {Image Source} |
Those foul, filthy, creatures of the night. Spreading their disgusting droppings and disease with reckless abandon. They taunt me. They seek me out. Their soul mission in life is to make mine a misery.
And up until last week they have been winning the war. But no more.
Today, people.
Today, the War on Terrorism really begins.
In my experience, the only emotion greater than fear is anger.
And angry is what I am.
So angry that now, at the sight of these wretched creatures, instead of the heart-stopping fear that used to course though my body, my mind is filled with the thoughts of a thousand gangsters.
Every movie bad-guy I've ever seen invades the space between my ears, and if they could hear me talking they would shrivel and die from the expletives, such is my anger.
My rage is hotter than a thousand suns. More explosive than a million A-Bombs.
Fuelled by a trillion F-bombs.
Tonight the tyranny ends. Tonight the war begins.
For now my fear has gone. Replaced by anger. Seething, hot, raging anger.
It's time to unleash the beast. My inner gangsta.
Those filthy fuckers won't know what hit em! Those assholes, they'll be smacked-down, taken out, pumped full of lead*, put to sleep.
Their beds will be made for them. They will be taken to the cleaners. I will fashion concrete booties so heavy that they will never see the light of day again. And when they return to their bed, mini horses heads there will be.
The time for fear is over.
Tonight, the cockroaches will DIE!!!
 |
| This is exactly what I was like before we had our bathroom renovated. |
This is not the first time I have written about my absolute hatred for these filthy little fuckers. In fact I probably need to create a tag for them but I won't give the bastards the satisfaction! I am convinced that they are out to get me and I plan to get them before they get me! Do you have a fear/hatred/loathing of cockroaches or is some other insect/vermin/fucknut your nemesis?
*Of course I'm not actually going to shoot them with a gun, but I will spray them with as much spray as it takes, usually until they are snow white and I'm in danger of asphyxiating myself on the fumes. Either that or I will bash the shit out of them with a shoe.
Linking this up for the Laugh Link, which is being hosted by Melbourne Mum this week.
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