Whereas, it is now towards the end of the year 2008 and,Whereas, I have not seen, heard or suspected any Crawly Critters, hereafter referred to as "Hostiles" for a while now and,
Whereas, it is winter so I can tell myself that the war is over and celebrate victory over Nature and, since Nature is held at bay by this season, I can actually convince myself that I have won (even though I know it's foolish to do so in the long run)...
I do declare that the Mission is Accomplished.
Presented here is a listing of the Hostiles and the course of their past transgressions:
Palmettos: The Al-Quida species of the bug world. These fuckers are the most reviled. They are so disgusting and they inflict the most damage: by way of the Freak Out Factor they illicit. Though in actuality, one of the most benign of the Hostiles in their designs upon humanity, since they prefer to not really be around us, they are the most hated nevertheless. I haven't seen one of these big-ass interlopers wander into my crib in many months, and that's just fine by me. Whether it's the copious spraying of entryways with Heavy Duty RAID in the summer when your nymph babies wander in from the rain, or the box full of COMBAT traps discreetly placed up in the loft, by all observable means you appear to be non-existent. At least in this house. Oh, kid yourself not, I know you're out there. Even in winter. You fuckers will live through anything. Be warned, I still watch out for you and I won't ever welcome you with open arms! I spit on your ancestors and your children! Jihad! Ahhh Lidilililililillililillilililliliah!! (That sound they make with their tongues, you know!)
Ants: Ok, I admit, you guys are not really gone. I know. Like insurgents in Iraq, you pop up here and there and show evidence of a still intact organization and infrastructure. Unlike the big roaches though, you are really tiny. I can barely see you even when I'm looking right at you in bright light. Here's the thing though...you guys come as a huge party and think you can live it up in my house. Because RAID is some strong ass shit (and likely will give me cancer some day...thanks SC Johnson - "The Family Company"!) I can wipe you out where you stand with a quick spray. But then I am left to clean up your corpses. Chemical warfare can be so messy!
Geckos: Now though you guys are admittedly cute, and I actually like you and don't fear you at all, you can be quite punky. You're not satisfied by inhabiting every inch of sidewalk and wall space that is basking in direct sunlight in the summer, like you all are working on your tan or something, you feel it necessary to check out the inside of my house on a daily basis in the warm months. Well I know it isn't 'cause you want to escape the heat...you guys would love it if we were in the orbital path of Venus for cryin' out loud...you geckos be lovin' that sunshine and shit! But, maybe because you get thirsty or whatever you crawl through under the door or some other small crevice. Now it's said that you help keep the palmettos at bay by eating them, but last summer there was one of you guys and also a big palmetto hiding out in this house. After a day or two, I finally found the roach and killed him and later found you just sitting there minding your own business. Why didn't you eat that fucker?
Mice: As fellow mammals you should know we are a territorial Class. This is my territory, and I don't want to share it. Especially not with you. Though you are tiny and furry and cute, I'm sure; I've only really ever seen your cousins who live, briefly, in lab cages and shit. I don't need to see you wild guys. One of you caused me quite a few sleepless nights this fall when you decided to hang out with me in my tiny mobile-home-sized house. So if you're in the walls, I can hear you. And you came down through said walls every night at exactly 3:00 in the morning to fetch yourself a snack behind my fridge. It sounded like you were crackin' pistachios or something back there! What the fuck were you chewin' on? Well, I haven't heard you for months now, ever since I left you that "gift" box of D-CON to enjoy. Sorry Mickey!