The number one thing in the world I hate, despise, abhor more than poverty, illiteracy, prejudice, torture and unwanted facial hair COMBINED: sonofabitching, buttfucking, asslicking cockroaches. How DARE there be a cutesy cartoon version in Wall-E!? I officially detest Pixar’s art department for implying that those godforsaken cretins could have any redeeming qualities. It’s painful even to write about the motherfuckers. But! I was just fishing for topics, and the universe, bitch that she sometimes is, threw one my way. Literally.
I went to my closet to find a cord for a hearing aid device, and I pulled down a box from the top shelf. I haven’t visited that box since we moved it here from Cucaracha Villa, the rental house we shared with four million roach bastards last year. When I retrieved the box, I knocked down an old make-up container, which had a partially opened zipper. A millisecond later, I spied out of my eye corner a ginormous, black behemoth scurrying across the closet carpet. My usual spastic fit ensued, which my husband and daughter noted with the blithe expressions of flush septuagenarians nursing juleps on the fucking veranda.
You know, they could have moved their asses a tad faster because that cocksucker wasn’t going to kill itself. To their credit, they both all-foured it in the closet and beat the ever-living shit out of that thing. My hubbie deposited the damned carcass in the toilet where it belonged, and my daughter came out of the closet. But that’s a story for another day.
You know, they could have moved their asses a tad faster because that cocksucker wasn’t going to kill itself. To their credit, they both all-foured it in the closet and beat the ever-living shit out of that thing. My hubbie deposited the damned carcass in the toilet where it belonged, and my daughter came out of the closet. But that’s a story for another day.
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ReplyDeletePhobias are such fascinating little critters. Like cockroaches, but even more of them plague us, it seems. Don’t lie now; everyone has one or two. Or scores. They’re illogical anxieties that overwhelm us when we encounter them; like water or high places or dark spaces or confined rooms or crowds of people. Or fire or being stuck inside an airplane at 30,000 feet. Well, some phobias are well founded, of course, because they can really cause pain. Or death.
ReplyDeleteSo. Can you name yours?
Affectionately deemed “oddities” and applied to folks around the time of life when they start searching catalogues for walkers and Depends, these little pests (speaking of cockroaches and their ilk here) “yank our chains” mercilessly and beyond all reason; turning intelligent and mature human beings into babbling idiots when they’re encountered.
Any psychologists out there who would care to explain how this happens, how some people are instantaneously reduced to puddles of shivering Jello by such (unexplainably) perceived threats to survival? I’d appreciate knowing.
For instance, CLOWNS. I can’t count high enough to identify the number of people I’ve encountered in my life who are rendered positively apoplectic by the sight of a clown. Or even by the mere utterance of the WORD “clown”! Seriously. Clowns are entertainers, whose goal is to make people laugh and forget their troubles, to distract folks from focusing on some horror or other that’s facing them. Like a bullfighter being gored by an enraged bull, or a bull-rider lying broken in the sawdust ,or the arrival of the candled cake at a little kid’s birthday (“Oh my god, another year…!”). I mean, the kind with a bulbous red nose and oversized smiling red lips and rouge cheeks and enormous eyes; this trickster’s goal is to engage the audience with wild antics. But instead, for the unfortunate victims of this debilitating phobia, the result is sheer terror. Like Elane and her cockroaches (she also hates clowns). Go figure.
Hess