|The Man has informed me that this is a picture of "Ant Man", some kind of super hero? Now I'm disappointed. I wanted a pic of a super dude kicking an ant's ass. I think they're working together though. Yes, The Man has confirmed Ant Man uses his stupid flying ant buddy to get around. Damn it. image from HERE|
Ants are a$$holes.
Do you know I had to be exiled from my house today for over four hours because ants are such complete and total douches?
No. No, don't try to tell me that they're a part of nature, and we're all in balance, and it would be terrible if we didn't have ants and blah, blah, blah diddy blah. Yeah, once upon a time I may have thought that too. I saw the little jerkoffs milling around my kitchen floor last spring, and thought, "well, I don't like them, but they don't seem to be hurting anything, so I'll just keep squashing the ones I see, and cohabitate with them, bubble, bubble squeek!" That was until flying ants came pouring up through the vent in my bedroom last June.
Screw cohabitation. Long live CHEMICALS!
So, I was hearing those familiar scritchy scratchy noises behind the groovy 1970's-esque wood panelling here in the pantry, and knew that that meant the little asshats were busy. Busy trying to take over my freaking house!!! Then we saw them here and there in the kitchen. Then they were in the dining room. Then the living room. Then, ONE LONE SMALL ANT was upstairs in the bathroom.
And so, the bug man, with his truck full of delicious, yummy chemicals came to our house today, and sprayed while we were out. OH yes. You know, one of these days, I'd like to pull a couple of foldout chairs together on my front porch, crack a couple of beers, and swap stories with the bug man. I'll bet those guys have tales that would curl my toes. Remember this gem, from last year's bug man? He told me about a house so full of ants, that when the woman of the house pulled the Christmas turkey out of the oven to cool, by the time she came back to check on it, some indiscriminate length of time later, the turkey was "covered in ants."
Merry Christmas, kids!
So, I had to be the nomad today. I have to say, my cats are also dicks. Yowl, yowl, yowl in their little kitty carriers as we were enroute to my sister's house for the day. Just because I had to go to the drive through at McDink's to get a coffee, does not mean they get to be inconsiderate little jerks about it. I also won't go into detail about the fighty/shoving/sweaty/dicey/slightly terrifiying wrestling match I had to get Fatty back in her carrier when it was finally time to come home. Angry Cat: 1, Sweaty karen: 0.
And dig this, people, while I was trying to fill those hours with something, my sis and I took the girl's to McDonk's for lunch. Why, how interesting--a guy I once worked with happened to be in there getting lunch.
I don't think he noticed me.
I tried to make myself as invisible as a chubby girl can.
My sister does not get my mortification. Let me lay it out for y'all, because I know you'll feel me on this. I haven't seen this guy in just over 10 years. I was the slimmest I'd been since I was 13. My hair was dyed a reddish colour. All dudes dig red hair. I was IN MY TWENTIES. I was (allegedly) on the "most effable cashiers" list. I don't know people--I didn't make this crap up. I was ALMOST A CONTENDER, ya dig? So, 50 pounds, two kids, two deep mannequin lines (a.k.a. JOWELS) beside my chin (chinS?) later, there I am at Mc-freaking-donalds with really stupid hair, and a really shiny face. I could just tell it was shiny. It's been really hot out today. I wanted to melt into a crack in the floor.
I don't think he noticed me.
My sis, for the record, was shaking her head at my attitude. "Don't have low self esteem!" she admonished. I don't have low self esteem! I have REALISM-ITIS!
Man, what a bummer.
oh well, the good news is, there's no more scritchy scratchy noise in the walls behind me.