I'm Getting Tired of these Motherfucking Bugs in My Motherfucking Life

Oh, hey there, friend. I didn't see you sitting there! Have you been here the whole time? Since September?! Jeez, sorry about that! You should have thrown something at me!

Anyway, I'm back! Sorry for the delay...I've been super busy, super lazy, and generally unproductive when it has come to my writing. I am going to change this though (fingers crossed!).

This was going to be a post about my road rage, but in light of my current situation, I will put that one on hold for a moment. My new post is inspired by my unbridled hatred of all things bugs. Except butterflies, rolly pollies (you know, their scientific name), and bees (as long as they're making honey and staying the fuck away from me). All of the rest of them can go fuck themselves. I feel like my blog, like my house and backyard, has become overrun by bugs, namely ants and June bugs. I fucking hate them. HATE THEM. It's gotten so obnoxious as of late that I am currently weighing the pros and cons of just saying "Fuck it" and setting our house on fire. I'm pretty sure that if I do that we probably won't get our security deposit back, but I'm also pretty sure we won't get it back anyway because our landlords are shady assholes like that. In fact, I'm not sure that the landlords didn't send the plague of sugar ants and June bugs themselves.

Right now I'm sitting out on our patio writing this because it was nice out, so in a way, I'm doing this to myself. But goddamn it, this is MY backyard. I don't care that it's outside and technically outside is where the bugs are free to be. When you are quite possibly the stupidest fucking bug alive, next to the fly, you don't get to live. Also, you shouldn't be called June bugs; you should be called hell-spawn's (aka tree roaches) retarded cousin. Seriously, other than flies, what other creature repeatedly bashes itself against things? You are seriously giving the bug community a bad name which was already pretty fucking bad to begin with. I just had to rip off my goddamn pants in my backyard because one of you perverted twats decided it was a good idea to go exploring. Well guess what? Now you're fucking dead and I'm pants-less and missing a shoe. No one wins. NO ONE. AND STOP LANDING ON MY GODDAMN LAPTOP! My bets are that if you're stupid enough to repeated bash yourself against the sliding glass door, that you're not going to be very helpful to me in writing my blog. I don't know any June bug editors, and I plan to keep it that way. Can you imagine shaking hands with one of those fuckers? Oh wait, of course you can. You ARE one of those fuckers. Well, news flash, you six legged twat, I don't fucking like you and I will end you. Do you not see the wasteland of your fallen brethren? I did that. I AM THE ONE WHO SPRAYS. 

Also it's not June. Get a fucking calendar and get your shit together. I know, I know. It's better to be early than late, but no. In your case it's better never than dead. So kindly see yourself the fuck away from me.

Now. On to you, ants. Oh, you thought I had forgotten about you? Ha ha...that's goddamn adorable. You guys are unforgettable. Don't thank me- that wasn't a compliment. My hatred for you guys is on par with my hatred for the June bugs and roaches. I would say spiders too, but you know what? They're at least useful. They eat other bugs. You eat my food or at least get into my food and ruin it so I can't eat it. Do you see the problem for me here? Spiders = okay if they stay the away from me because they eat bugs that bother me (hint, hint); You = not okay because you eat what I want to eat.

Exactly.

I set out traps a few months ago, and that seemed to work for a while. Plus I got to see your stupid little sugar ant carcasses in the trap. Which was awesome. But alas, that did not solve the problem because like the June bugs, y'all just kept coming. So I bought new traps, this time with bait that you can take back to your queen. God save the queen? I think not. Not when that queen is a whore ant queen that keeps pumping out minions to taint my food. Fuck the queen, I say.

Yeah, I said it. You're no Queen Elizabeth, you twat.

So far, I've just seen you guys came out at the bait stations though, and this angers me. You had one job, assholes! ONE JOB. Get it and go. This is not the water cooler at the office, you useless pieces of shit. You don't get to sit there and chat about whatever it is sugar ants talk about. Sugar and ruining my life, I'm guessing. GO HOME. TAKE IT TO YOUR LEADER. You know, that thing right above this paragraph? HER. Take it to her. Or have you been here so long that you've forgotten all about your cozy little mound of bullshit? 

Except with tiny, tiny sugar-shitting ants.

I will end you, this I promise you. Whether it's with bait, spray, crushing your tiny little bodies one by one, or flamethrower, it will happen. One way or another, we will be done with you.