I am going to exterminate the god damn stinkbugs.
Not just the ones in my house. I'm going to wipe the planet clean of them.
I admit, I hate the little bastards. But that's not why I'm going to wipe them out. I'm going to wipe them out because, very clearly, they want to die.
Like, just now. I'm minding my own business, trying to ignore the stinkbug that is continuously buzzing against the ceiling, apparently unable to tell the difference between flyable airspace and textured plaster. Hint, stinkbugs: one of them makes a godawful racket when you bump your face against it every two seconds, and the other is the sky.
Anyway, this fucker bounces off the ceiling directly above me, causing me to duck in blind panicreasonable concern. It then careens off the wall to my left, and I know what's coming next. Despite my best efforts to not be in any place in the remote vicinity of this stinkbug, he lands on my shoulder.
What the fuck, stinkbug? You are not a bluejay, and this is not a shockingly racist live/animated Disney film.
Moving with the speed and precision of a sleepy-drunk bear, I punched myself in the shoulder a few times and then finally flicked the damn thing off. Managed to knock him right in the trashcan, too, entirely on purpose. But of course, the bastard got the last laugh: my entire fucking torso smells like stinkbug now.
I'm going to take a shower in the fucking oven now.
Not just the ones in my house. I'm going to wipe the planet clean of them.
I admit, I hate the little bastards. But that's not why I'm going to wipe them out. I'm going to wipe them out because, very clearly, they want to die.
Like, just now. I'm minding my own business, trying to ignore the stinkbug that is continuously buzzing against the ceiling, apparently unable to tell the difference between flyable airspace and textured plaster. Hint, stinkbugs: one of them makes a godawful racket when you bump your face against it every two seconds, and the other is the sky.
Anyway, this fucker bounces off the ceiling directly above me, causing me to duck in blind panicreasonable concern. It then careens off the wall to my left, and I know what's coming next. Despite my best efforts to not be in any place in the remote vicinity of this stinkbug, he lands on my shoulder.
What the fuck, stinkbug? You are not a bluejay, and this is not a shockingly racist live/animated Disney film.
Moving with the speed and precision of a sleepy-drunk bear, I punched myself in the shoulder a few times and then finally flicked the damn thing off. Managed to knock him right in the trashcan, too, entirely on purpose. But of course, the bastard got the last laugh: my entire fucking torso smells like stinkbug now.
I'm going to take a shower in the fucking oven now.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
necia:
Stinkbugs are the most terrifying things. Hadn't encountered them until my first visit to San Antonio when one alighted on my shoulder just like you described. Holy hell. I almost dislocated my arm trying to shake that fucker off.
velvet_petal:
Eww. I don't even know what those are but am now afraid as well just on your recommendation alone.