pottsie

wouldn't you like to be as good as roger federer at something? be able to be an arrogant bastard and pull it off because you're just stating the facts?

it's damn hot at the moment. long, humid nights with the fan rumbling a foot from my face. we're going to have to move soon, and that's cool, i was beginning to lose the battle against the ants anyway.

the ants started it. and now it's open warfare. i played simant when i was a kid, i know what the little fuckers are thinking. we'll move in and take over the house. sit around and eat pottsie's food and watch the cricket on his television.

i tolerated them for awhile. i figured their little excursions into the kitchen whenever it wasn't cleaned properly would maybe just make my messy flatmate cleanup more. i thought live and let live. but no, they got greedy. one morning i woke up and found the ants were on the charge in a thick black line into my room.

onto my bed.

i took that as an open declaration of war. my policy of appeasement hadn't paid off. i felt like neville chamberlain watching poland fall and knowing he had to do something. i started by sweeping the little fuckers out, then laid down a layer of surface spray, then went to the hardware shop and bought everything that had ant written on it in a wacky title. i got ant-rid, ant-b-gone, anty-matter (well not really but if i was going to make one that's what i'd call it) and tracked down their nest next door and let's just say that, to continue the ww2 analogy, although i had to bomb the shit out of dresden, and the destruction was considerable, a great evil was defeated.

yep....

see that's what happens when you update with nothing to say. when your lovelife is on hold and when you're working long hours on shitty programs. gonna try and sleep now. will make more sense another time