The roach army has signed a treaty with the Mouse Armada, and they are both attacking me.
Fate is a cruel, cruel bitch.
Update later.
Fate is a cruel, cruel bitch.
Update later.
Showing posts with label roach watch '07. Show all posts
Showing posts with label roach watch '07. Show all posts
Friday, December 14, 2007
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
The Skittering Of Roaches Will Haunt Me Forever
Saw my first roach in months (well, weeks) last night. Caught it with the infamous blue Roach Cup, flushed it, sprayed roach killer, and this morning I used this roach-killing caulk on a few places where the regular caulk has come away from the walls.
Just felt like sharing. Going to take a shower, get coffee, and buy HARRY POTTER & THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX before work starts. Huzzah for geeky obsessions! I haven't seen this movie; I only recently fell off the 'indifferent to HARRY' wagon and cracked my skull open.
Anyway. Going to post WATCHMEN comic quotes now, because they are poetry, and I have a crush on Rorschach. Don't judge me, I'm funny.
May K-Mart have caulk and my DVD, or I'm gonna light the fucker up and burn it down.
- LV
Just felt like sharing. Going to take a shower, get coffee, and buy HARRY POTTER & THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX before work starts. Huzzah for geeky obsessions! I haven't seen this movie; I only recently fell off the 'indifferent to HARRY' wagon and cracked my skull open.
Anyway. Going to post WATCHMEN comic quotes now, because they are poetry, and I have a crush on Rorschach. Don't judge me, I'm funny.
May K-Mart have caulk and my DVD, or I'm gonna light the fucker up and burn it down.
- LV
Saturday, October 6, 2007
TV Is Funny. Hehe.
My job is sucking the will to live from my nostrils. Which is where we all store our will to live. It's true. I work with books. I know things.
Fuck. I'm too tired to be funny. Or coherent. My foot itches.
I saw a roach last night and DIDN'T scream like a little girl! I'm really maturing as a human being.
I tried to write a story earlier tonight. It ended up sounding like a cross between JEEVES AND WOOSTER, CLERKS, and Raymond Chandler. And not in a good way. Very sad. I fail at life. A mature failure. Like bad old wine.
I think it's time for Elle to go to sleep.
- LV
Fuck. I'm too tired to be funny. Or coherent. My foot itches.
I saw a roach last night and DIDN'T scream like a little girl! I'm really maturing as a human being.
I tried to write a story earlier tonight. It ended up sounding like a cross between JEEVES AND WOOSTER, CLERKS, and Raymond Chandler. And not in a good way. Very sad. I fail at life. A mature failure. Like bad old wine.
I think it's time for Elle to go to sleep.
- LV
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Day 31 Of Unemployment: Roach Watch '07
So. Three in the morning. Esse and I, after enjoying a Jeeves & Wooster marathon, are getting ready to sleep. Then we see it. Roach number four. Not a particularly large roach, I should add. But the circumstances may be the most horrifying yet.
You see, dear readers, the roach got in when Esse innocently opened a window hoping for a cool breeze. The roach molested my friend, crawling along her leg. She chose not to mention the incident so that I would not shriek like a prison bitch. She hoped she was merely hallucinating, that the feeling on her leg was a sign of oncoming insanity. We were not so lucky.
I only screamed once. I also vomited once, upon seeing roach guts on my floor, thus ruining my moment of Rambo-like bravery. I sprayed enough Raid through the apartment to ensure that neither I nor my friend will ever reproduce, covered it with the Roach Cup, then ran into the bathroom so that Esse could transport the creature's earthly remains to the garbage receptacle outside my humble, ROACH FUCKING INFESTED abode.
People are not themselves at 3 AM. I was braver than usual, if only by necessity. Esse was more frightened than I expected. And the poor roach was probably terrified. The whole thing, in fact, could have been physical comedy, with one girl retching in the bathroom and the other hopping around at a safe distance.
Esse, to her immense credit, did all the dirty work. She even cleaned up the guts on my once-pristine floor. But was she rewarded for her valiant efforts? No. Instead, while disposing of the corpse outside, a drunk/stoned/stupid young man bluntly asked her for sex. Esse, with her usual grace, replied simply, "No." The gentleman went on his stoned/drunk/stupid way without a companion.
This is, unfortunately, all true. Esse is currently hiding in the kitchen drinking tea and trying to remember how to play Solitaire. I am sitting on my bed, keeping an eye on where I last saw the dread beast, with my shoes on and my adrenaline way too high.
My name is ElleVee, and this is life in New York City.
- LV
You see, dear readers, the roach got in when Esse innocently opened a window hoping for a cool breeze. The roach molested my friend, crawling along her leg. She chose not to mention the incident so that I would not shriek like a prison bitch. She hoped she was merely hallucinating, that the feeling on her leg was a sign of oncoming insanity. We were not so lucky.
I only screamed once. I also vomited once, upon seeing roach guts on my floor, thus ruining my moment of Rambo-like bravery. I sprayed enough Raid through the apartment to ensure that neither I nor my friend will ever reproduce, covered it with the Roach Cup, then ran into the bathroom so that Esse could transport the creature's earthly remains to the garbage receptacle outside my humble, ROACH FUCKING INFESTED abode.
People are not themselves at 3 AM. I was braver than usual, if only by necessity. Esse was more frightened than I expected. And the poor roach was probably terrified. The whole thing, in fact, could have been physical comedy, with one girl retching in the bathroom and the other hopping around at a safe distance.
Esse, to her immense credit, did all the dirty work. She even cleaned up the guts on my once-pristine floor. But was she rewarded for her valiant efforts? No. Instead, while disposing of the corpse outside, a drunk/stoned/stupid young man bluntly asked her for sex. Esse, with her usual grace, replied simply, "No." The gentleman went on his stoned/drunk/stupid way without a companion.
This is, unfortunately, all true. Esse is currently hiding in the kitchen drinking tea and trying to remember how to play Solitaire. I am sitting on my bed, keeping an eye on where I last saw the dread beast, with my shoes on and my adrenaline way too high.
My name is ElleVee, and this is life in New York City.
- LV
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