To the moron who was in front of me on the highway this afternoon...
If you're going to have some really gorgeous custom graphics displayed in your rear window, I suggest you learn how to spell 'IRRESISTABEL' [sic].
I suffer from a couple of phobias...most notably what I refer to as my 'bug-o-phobia'. I hesitate to use the proper term for this fear, because I don't really fear the bugs themselves. I know that most of them are perfectly harmless. I know that they won't hurt me. Yeah yeah. I get it already.
My fear is of the bugs touching my skin. *shudder* I cannot stand the thought of those little legs, and antennae, and wings, and WHATEVER, touching me. I have goosebumps on my arms right now just thinking of it.
While I am quite fearless when it comes to getting rid of a pesky field mouse, or picking up the occasional ring-neck or garden snake when I'm outside in the yard, even though I actually enjoy digging up worms when we're headed for the fishin'-hole,
I will walk 5 feet out of my way to avoid a flock(?) of butterflies. Moths that come in and bounce around my light fixtures drive me mad. In the summer, I get crickets, crickets, and more crickets in the house...if I don't actually see them, they don't bother me, because then I don't have to worry about them hopping up on me with their creepy little bent legs. But if I can see them...I am hypnotically fixated on them. I will be frozen in position, locked in a room if the bug is between me and the door.
And don't even get me started on the myriad varieties of beetles we've got around here.
If they come whilst I am sleeping...oh well. As long as they don't leave me a "Hello, Michele sent me!" note, I'm quite all right.
It's a good thing I don't have roaches, or I'd leave my house without a backward glance.
I hate the crunchy sound bugs make when you smash 'em. Thank goodness spiders don't usually crunch, because my house is old and we've got all sizes and shapes here. It's really no wonder that I'm half out of my mind.
And in case you were wondering...chasing me around the house with a junebug until I lock myself in your bathroom for half an hour while everyone laughs hysterically is NOT a fun time for me. So now you know. Next time I'll probably be suing you for emotional trauma. Now you can't say you weren't warned.
And speaking of bugs...
Aaah. My brother~~you've gotta love him. All 6 feet 4-or-so inches and 350 pounds of him. He has a propensity toward gruffness, rudeness, arrogance, selfishness, sarcasm, and sometimes downright meanness. Sadly, these are our family traits from which there is no escape, as they are so deeply inbred.
But within the giant beats a somewhat tender heart. One day last summer I, in a phobic panic, ran next door to get this brother. There was a big red wasp buzzing in the living room window.
I told my brother the problem, he bitched, he sighed, he griped...but he came over armed with the flyswatter.
He looked sorrowfully at the wasp in the window, said, "Sorry about this, buddy", then disposed of the little corpse.
I asked if he needed a kleenex to dry his wittle tears & did he want me to build a damn box so he could give the thing a proper burial.
He gave me the finger.
Hey, it's just my way of saying, "Thanks for a job well done, bro".