Scenic Cooter Hollow

The yellow tile floor of the bathroom is sometimes a little obstacle course of glasses with huge roaches dying inside, stoically, just sitting there, the glasses gradually steaming up with roach-dioxide.

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What you see here is a standard conical pint glass, about six inches high and about three inches in diameter across the mouth. It is inverted over some as-yet unidentified insect which is STANDING THE FUCK UP and RAPPING ITS ANTENNAE against the side in a plea for me to set it free. I trapped it an hour ago, and it remains on the windowsill above my bed, reminding me of its presence with its arthropodontic knocking every few minutes.

I have seen all varieties of creepy crawling fuck-all in my life. I have smashed city sewer roaches with my shoes, and swatted rainforest mosquitoes off of my Squirrel. I have watched in horror as the matted detritus of a rat gurgled up from a newly Draino-ed shower. I have spent the better part of this very summer in dire need of a windshield wiper for my laptop monitor, in order to keep it clean of mosquito guts. But I have never before trapped a clumsy, drunken, alien, thing, really so heavy and graceless it was fucking bumping INTO THE GODDAMNED WALLS, beneath one of our few nice glasses.

I owe my Native an apology for that mouse he killed in my cast-iron skillet. Mainly because I’m going to leave this nasty-assed bug here to suffocate or starve, and be really nice to the Native when he comes home from work in a few days so that he’ll dispose of it for me. Then I’m going to clean the hell out that glass and replace its contents with a very large rum and coke.

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