Killing the selfish does not BUG me

I generally am not a squeamish person when it comes to bugs, blood, and most organics. I pretty much just disassociate myself when it comes to my home ‘bug killing’ duties and eliminate the interloper without a thought. It seems lately I am being tested regularly by a snake in the house last week and today some kind of BEETLE BUGS probably filled with gooey Fahrvergnügen.

Like anyone I still am not a fan of wandering through a forest and getting a face full of cobwebs glued to my hair, teeth, and chin. I also can be a bit of a ‘Ballerina Boy’ when a persistent bee, wasp, or horse fly won’t leave me alone. I am sure my neighbors have hidden video somewhere of me at the mailbox, dancing tight pirouettes lashing out at the air and all around my head trying to whack a seemingly invisible flying irritant.

Since we humans are literally tens of thousands times the size of even the biggest bug, I generally figure that insects should avoid us, not the other way around. Yet, more often than not some dumb bug will fly in my face of logic and demand a call to arms, nerve gas, or my wife’s favorite pancake spatula (and you thought those things were chocolate chips). I particularly hate those armor plated beetles who will calmly parade across the carpeted floor acting like they own the place. Funny around tax time every year, there is not a bug, bird, or mole to be found near this dump. But you can bet, after the bills are paid, and the BBQ starts coming out in the Spring, guess who shows up to dinner, a movie, and a quick spin around the fluorescent light on Friday nights?

When I find these marauders I generally try to kill them, though I do have a translucent trap for spiders and so-called beneficial bugs. I am not that ‘gentle’ really, it is just that if you kill a spider or ‘mini-Mothra” it leaves a big hairy brown smear on the wall. That may be fairly normal and OK in our bathroom, but there is no guarantee the bugs will use the restroom when it’s ‘killer time’. Those Kevlar-coated bugs irritate me when they hunker down in the fiber of the carpeting to avoid my shoe or exo-skeletal crushing coffee table book retribution. As soon as the pressure comes off, they get-up and start to run for the trees like out of some cheesy Vietnam era war film. Of course in those cases, it requires a more intimate kill, where I have to get down on my knees and take a tissue so I can FEEL the lethality of my death sentence.

I can’t win of course because as much as the wife does not like bugs in her house, she herself ‘bugs’ me to clean up all the dead bug-parts strewn all over the place. Unfortunately with some of these bugs when you get close and personal to exact enough pressure to end their evil ways, their buggy parts often go their separate ways too. It is a pain to have to pick up after bugs, since I have a hard enough time picking up after myself. You’d think since the bugs are living here rent-free, they would at least have the decency to grab the vacuum and help out once in awhile. I hate stupid, selfish, bugs!