October 31st, 2008

breeden

(no subject)

I think the gods are trying to tell me to stop showering.

I was stepping out of the shower today, minding my own business, and saw something wiggling behind my shampoo bottle.

I did not scream. This is not to my credit, however, because I think I got all my screaming out over the drain worms t'other day. Instead, with fatal calm, I dried off, put the towel down, opened the shower door again, and peered behind my shampoo bottle.

The two inch centipede that had crawled up the drains waved an antennae at me. In another bug, I might consider it a friendly gesture, but in a centipede, such things are almost always the scuttling equivalent of "Fuck you, mammal! You want a piece of me!?"

Longtime readers may recall that I loathe centipedes the way I loathe bad art and evil, possibly more so, since I am at least sympathetic to the plight of making bad art and I have occasionally rp'd characters who were not quite as lawful good as they might have been. I have been bitten by centipedes. It is excruciating and it doesn't go away for DAYS. Plus, the legs. Nothing with that many legs is up to anything good. (Millipedes, while not actively evil, are probably plotting something.)

"Hi," I said, to the enemy.

The centipede mimed something rude about my mother.

"Nobody talks that way about my mother!" I cried, and crushed him with the shampoo bottle, which took a fair amount of work, because those nasty little buggers are armored like a chitinous dreadnought.

Eventually he gushed pink stuff and expired. I scooped him up with a handful of Clorox wipes and flushed him.

Then I ordered a quart of the stuff that kills drain goop, in hopes of killing the flies that feed the centipede that crawls up the drains into the shower in the house that Jack built.

If anything more comes up the drains this week, I'm gonna assume it's a sign and just start taking dust baths like a chinchilla.