Beware the Amazing Cockroach Killer!

One of the first things I had to do when I woke up today (before even brushing my teeth mind you) was empty well over 50 cans of stale beer and guiness stout down the toilet, in the process chippin 2 of my nails. %$#@!

Actually they expired 2 years ago, so stale isn't exactly what I'd say it was. Mom had re-discovered them in a box while searching for hangers in the storeroom. One of the cans had popped and was leaking into the box, causing it to turn into a soggy mush. It was certain they had to go. I actually thought it was quite wasteful. I even imagined taking a sip out of each can before draining them, but beer is only good for about, 9 months - give or take. Anything beyond that would be considered stale. 2 years I imagine, could quite possibly be lethal.

At first it seemed completely monotonous. But after a while, I started to get creative - emptying 2 cans at a time and making criss cross patterns, pretending it was (and I know how lame this sounds) piss (but please note, I had barely been up 10 minutes). As I slowly gained momentum, I decided to add on another - increasing the number of cans to 3. It was comfortable, but not quite right, if you ask me. Finally I was draining 4 cans, which were all I could manage anyway. This time, I was "milking cows". I showed mom. She rolled her eyes.

After awhile, she must've thought that the scent of alcohol was starting to have some kind of undesirable effect on me, which was why I guess, she decided she would help.

She opened. I poured. Less tiring, but I was bored all over again.

AND THEN -now this is where it gets exciting and the whole point of this entry anway- she spotted a cockroach crawling along the rim of the toilet bowl (probably drawn to the intoxicating smell). And without any thought, I found myself sweeping it -into what must've been a sea of alcohol for it- with my BARE fingers (yuck). We waited to see if it would surface, but it never did. The little bastard must've had a party before dying.

Moms words, "it got drunk and died".

I was suddenly "alive" again. Thrilled.


I wonder if it's even considered sadistic to enjoy watching pests such as roaches and bugs die.

Ugly inside-out

Went out with Manda on Monday. We were half shopping/half window shopping, discussing fashion, bitching about annoying relatives and older women (which deserves a whole blog entry of its own), having lots of laughs and a rather delighful time, when a strange couple (NOT endearingly) almost ruined our appetites, not to mention evening!

I say strange not only because of how they looked, but how they behaved. (more at Manda's)

The girl was dressed in full black, and had on pair of thick dark-rimmed glasses, her long hair let loose(she probably was going for "emo-goth" but resulted in "just-plain-weird"). I can't recollect how the guy was dressed, perhaps because his butt-ugly face and idiotic facial expression --as he incessantly weighed his eyes upon us, frowning and squinting as if constipated and desperately in need of the lavatory-- was attention-grabbing enough.

I'd go on relating more of what was to come, but Manda already gave a detailed description of the account on her blog.

This is surely a story to be told, generations on.