Hello, I blog!
I share all my sporadic and toilet thoughts in here, because I am random like that.
Insect mutilation fail
So I spotted this black dot on the ceiling and wondered what the heck it was.
After examining it a little closer (by standing on my bed), I deduced it to be a spider and wanted it dead like, nao. Creepy crawlies are so not welcome in my room.
I went outside to fetch a newspaper, intending to throw it upwards horizontally. This is so that it will nicely smack said spider and fall back down with its carcass, allowing me to pick it up and throw it away.
Arriving back in my room with my choice of weapon, I took aim.
Ready, get set, fire. The newspaper went flying upwards … in the wrong direction. It went up vertically instead, smacking the ceiling next to the spider with a loud thwack, and basically knocked the spider off the ceiling … causing it to land somewhere, quite possibly still alive.
Gosh, my aiming sucks. Fail #1.
And the spider still could be crawling somewhere in my room. Oh, damn it.
After a short hunt around, I decided to give up and resume whatever I was doing before having spotted that dratted thing … and that was when I spotted that dratted thing again.
Still on the ceiling.
I was puzzled. I thought I had already knocked it off the ceiling? Unless that spider had legs that allowed it to crawl at the speed of light? Or … were there two spiders instead?
Totally not relying on my own sucky aiming anymore, and called my mum for help.
Minutes later, mum stood on my bed, closely examining the black speck on the ceiling. Her face took on a puzzled expression, before she eventually burst into sniggers.
“Brenda, this is not a spider. It’s a housefly!”
Enemy identification fail. And that’s fail #2 for the day.
So, that explains how it could get back on the ceiling so quickly. At least there are no spiders after all, I wouldn’t like them spinning webs in various corners of my room.
The housefly is still at large. Darn it.
And I still can’t really tell insects apart at my age. Oh, how embarrassing.
I am such a murderer
As soon as the creature set its beady eyes on me, I knew I had to get rid of it.
Getting my stuff out of harm’s way, I mad a mad scramble to my room and grabbed what I knew was the most toxic weapon I could find. Grasping the canister (filled with said toxic weapon), I blasted the creature with all my might.
The creature panicked and ran as fast as its little legs could carry it. Unfortunately, it was too slow for its pursuer. A provoked Brenda is an angry Brenda. And once she decides she wants to get rid of you, escape is almost futile.
The creature scurried under the toilet cistern in a desperate attempt to hide, while I continued to blast the (two) openings to its hideout with my toxic weapon. The air in the tiny bathroom was beginning to reek from the stench of said weapon, but I didn’t care. I just wanted the creature dead, now.
Sensing how I was slightly distracted at one moment, the creature made an attempt to escape – by climbing on top of the toilet pump. A movable object. How smart.
I picked up the pump (with said creature on it) and dunked it into the shower. Following which, I grabbed the shower hose, turned it to full water force and rained it on top of said creature.
Well, well, well. Any attempts to escape will most definitely fail now, as a small creature most probably can’t fight against a shower hose at full blast.
With its little legs flailing wildly against the force of the water, the little lizard breathed its last breath as it was washed down the drainage system.
I stood in the middle of the bathroom, grinning a little too manically to be considered normal, before I blew lightly at my weapon(s) – the shower hose and the canister of pesticide – like a superhero would do to his gun.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing should come along and disturb me when I am in the midst of one of life’s simplest pleasures.
Especially. When. I. Am. In. The. Midst. Of. Taking. A. Dump.
Find Me
